


The Mess That You Wanted

by justyouraveragestoryteller



Category: One Direction (Band), Real Person Fiction, Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, But they figure it out, Emotional Baggage, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I'm so bad at tagging, M/M, Nightmares, Promise, kaylor - Freeform, larry - Freeform, so much misunderstanding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2020-06-15 14:11:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 55,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19618177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justyouraveragestoryteller/pseuds/justyouraveragestoryteller
Summary: A closer look at Karlie and Taylor's relationship throughout the years. As Noah grows up, Evie is born, and fame (slowly) fades away, the girls find themselves asking the question: What happens when the novelty of love wears off and people see you as you truly are?"Love is a ruthless game, unless you play it good and right." - Taylor Swift





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> I'm back again, and I hope this story will be of similar length. 40 more chapters would be amazing, especially now that I have so much time with school off and everything. We'll see what happens... I'm planning on posting once a week (on Friday's).
> 
> If you're a returning reader, thank you so much for continuing with this story. If you're a first-time reader, I suggest you start with the first installment of this series, titled "'Cause We Break Down A Little."
> 
> Thanks, and happy reading!
> 
> \- J xx

_Winter. 2026._

_Bayswater, London. Studio 6._

Karlie refuses to look at her phone. 

It was taunting her all the same, screen dark and motionless on her nightstand, like it had been for the past hour. Karlie pulls the covers up over her head for the third time, heart pounding, and wills herself to fall back asleep. 

7 AM. 

She said she would call in the morning, didn’t she? 

The problem is Karlie can’t _remember_. She doesn’t remember what happened last night, doesn’t remember which line she crossed, which wall she let down. Despite the pain she’d put herself through trying to salvage the memories, they were at best fleeting - blurred flashes of light and sharp noise from eight hours earlier. 

Her reflection, ghostly in the mirror. Eyeliner sharp, mascara running. Crimson lipstick on her neck. The faucet running, her fingers shaking. Scrubbing hard at the marks, eyes darting to the bathroom door. Shame, rising in her stomach. No one could know. The lipstick wasn’t coming _off_. 

Panicking.

Her mother’s voice in her head, taunting her in that lilting tone.

_I never liked her, Karlie._

_That girl doesn’t know what she wants._

A _red_ dress. _Red_ lips. Numb fingers untying the _red_ sash on the dress. Karlie’s fingers? 

A ring, glinting in candlelight. Karlie recognized that ring. Oh god, she _recognized_ that ring. Breathing hard, breathless, locking doors and slamming against the bathroom tile. Bruises. 

God, she’d been so drunk. The regret is rising, coloring cheeks, boiling blood.

A voice, _I’ll call tomorrow morning._ A familiar voice, saying, _listen to me, Karlie, we’ll figure it out tomorrow._

Karlie doesn’t know how to figure out what she can’t remember. She’s drifting somewhere in outer space in her drunken stupor, unable to even reconcile a name.

Her phone rings then, like a gunshot through the silence. Karlie does not flinch. She lunges for it, unlocking the screen in one fluid motion.

“...Karlie?”

  
“Taylor,” Karlie says thickly through building tears. Her head is aching from the alcohol, her temples thrumming. “God, Taylor, what did we _do_?”

… 

_Notting Hill, London. Studio 13._

Taylor wakes to a headache and a knock on her bedroom door, both are expected but unappreciated. She downs a glass of water from her bedside table before answering, gasping a little. 

“Yes?”

  
  
Katja’s voice from outside is hesitant, even apologetic.

“Louis is here,” There is a pause. “He says he knows it’s early, but it’s very important.”

  
Fuck.

“I’ll be there in a second,” Taylor calls hoarsely. “Just let me get dressed.” 

Taylor’s already dressed, but she needs a moment alone. 

She waits for Katja to walk down the hall before unlocking her phone and dialing a number she shouldn’t know by heart, but still does. The guilt rising in her stomach is enough to make her nauseous, but she holds the phone to her ear, her pulse racing.

“...Karlie?”

… 

The winters are brutal here. 

Karlie anticipated as much seven years ago, when Taylor and her toured those tiny studios in thin sweaters, vastly unprepared for the foreign climate they’d chosen as home. 

Still, it was jarring, pulling back the curtain to reveal snow in early March, not a green thing in sight. 

The kids loved it, of course. Evie was still a bit too young to understand it, but her older brother had no problem introducing snowmen, snow angels, and sledding to the toddler, sometimes taking it a bit too far.

“No sir,” Karlie would call sharply, looking up from a mug of coffee. “Put that down. Now.”

Noah would lower the snowball slowly, sheepishly. Evie skipped along, completely dwarfed by her parka, blissfully unaware. 

It wasn’t that Karlie disliked winter, she loved Christmas and New Year's after all, no, it was the loneliness that came with the empty days. Days when the festivities were long gone and it was just her in this big house, waiting for the kids to come back home. 

She supposed that made the good days all the more precious. She had to hold onto the little things in these cold months, otherwise she wouldn’t smile until spring.

… 

“Lou?” Taylor calls, rounding the corner into the kitchen. She winces. Christ, she’s sore all over.

  
Taylor finds Louis in similar shape at the kitchen counter. They’d been at the same party, after all. Louis' eyes are puffy and rimmed-red, his curls sticking up in haphazard fashion. He looked asleep on his feet.

“What time did you guys get home?”  
  
Louis rolls his eyes. “Told Harry I wanted to leave at three. We probably didn’t get home until five, five-thirty, an’ I had to drag him out,” He raises a mug of coffee to his lips, and Taylor nearly faints from the smell. “Got into a row about in on the way home.”  


“I think we’re getting too old for this."  
  
Louis toasts mockingly with his own mug and passes Taylor an empty one. She murmurs her thanks, reaching for the coffee pot. 

“Preachin’ to the choir, you are.”

Taylor rocks back on her heels, swallows a mouthful of scorching coffee, and broaches the subject she’d been dreading.

“How many pictures?”

“Elena hasn’t called?”

  
  
“My phone is off.”

  
  
Louis sets his mug down, letting out a long sigh.

“I love you,” He says. “I love you both, but I fuckin’ told you what would happen.”

“I know,"

“-Fuckin’ _told_ you it was a bad idea an’ they’d run with whatever they could get.”

Taylor doesn’t want to think about the kind of photos circulating online, though she knows they’ll be incriminating regardless of the subject, or, rather, subjects.

They’d been so close together, nearly face to face in that tiny club, the bass thrumming like a heartbeat in the background. She was _laughing_ , Taylor remembers with a jolt. She was laughing at something, throwing her head back, mouth agape, her whole body shaking from the force of it. Taylor can’t remember the last time she’d seen her laugh like that. Years ago, at least.  
  
“We were just talking,” Taylor curls back on herself as though to protect her feelings from Louis, from the world. “It was a friendly conversation, for once.”  
  
“Yeah, an’ then you two had the common sense to take it into the bathroom for half an hour.”

Both of them had been drunk, but it wasn’t an excuse.

  
  
“Lou,” Taylor says hotly, her cheeks flaming. “Keep your voice down.”

  
  
“S’ the other problem,” He hissed, turning towards the hall as if to prove his point. “Got a girlfriend, don’t you? What does she think of all this?”

  
  
Silence. There’s that shame again, churning in her stomach. Katja’s voice, tentative, at the door. 

_Louis is here._

God, did she know? She couldn’t. Not like this.

“I’m not saying what happened was a _good_ thing,” She stammers, feeling more childish by the second. “But it’s complicated when you involve someone else you’ve known for so long.”

“Like your ex-wife,” Louis says bluntly.

“Yes,” Taylor sighed, defeated, and takes another sip of coffee. “Like my ex-wife.”

Karlie’s voice, shrill and panicky in her head.

_Taylor, Taylor what did we do?_

Taylor supposes the question has changed by now. It wasn’t what they _did_ , it was what they were going to do. 

Louis sets his mug down again, and the noise breaks her focus.

“Look,” He says. “S’ your life. I’m in no place to tell you how to live it, an’ god knows Haz and I have made our share of poor choices…” He breaks off, cocking his head to one side to study Taylor, his eyebrows drawing close. “But I had to let you know before the headlines start circulating, an’ those pictures have to come down. At the very least.”  
  
“At the very least.” Taylor echoes.

“Right,” Louis stands up. “I’m off to chug a whole liter of orange juice. Take some paracetamol for that headache. An’ call Elena, please.”  
  
Taylor rubs at her temples, and manages a weak smile in Louis's direction.

“I will. Promise.”  
  
“Love ya,” Louis calls as he heads for the door.

“Love ya.”  
  
The door shuts with a _slam_ , and Taylor yelps in pain, quickly stifling the noise with the palm of her hand . She’s alone now, and the shame bursts forth in the form of tears. She cries silently, her shoulders hunched, blocking out the rest of the world. 

Katja comes back into the kitchen, then, frowning at Taylor’s tears.

“ _Lyubov moya_ ,” She soothes in Russian, and pulls Taylor into a gentle hug. Taylor, despite her predicament, leans into it, craves it even. “You’re alright, my love. Drink some water. It will help.”

If only Taylor could tell her how much it wouldn’t help, not even in the slightest.

...

_Four Years Earlier_

“We couldn’t have tabled this discussion for later?”

“I don’t think we can table this any longer.”

Taylor purses her lips at the thought, fingers a little too tight on the steering wheel. She’d never learned to relax in a car. Each of them had their career choices to thank for that. Karlie caught Taylor looking over her shoulder every so often, watching for cameras that were never there. 

Almost never. 

“I’m not saying anything is definite, but if we’re going to try-“

Her wife stiffens suddenly, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. 

“Don’t. Not with him here.”

Karlie turns, the seat-belt cutting into her shoulder, to look at Noah. The toddler’s head is lolled to one side, tongue out. One of his chubby hands is stuffed in his mouth, a thumb stuck in. Her heart swells.

“He’s asleep, babe.”

Taylor sighs deeply, her shoulders sagging. 

“Karlie. Drop it."

“Fine,” Karlie turns abruptly, letting out a bitter laugh. “We’ll wait the fifteen minutes it takes to get home. I couldn’t care less.” 

Silence. Taylor takes a particularly sharp corner and Karlie braces herself against the window, wincing at the cold glass. English winters were absolute hell on earth. 

“Yelling won’t solve anything,” 

Karlie looks at Taylor, but she’s not making eye contact, no doubt slowing her breathing and resisting her own urge to yell back. 

Hypocrite. 

“I’m not yelling.”  


“Yes, you are.”

  
  
“Not _at_ you,” Karlie returns flatly. “I’m frustrated. You’re not communicating and it’s frustrating.”  


“I _just_ said that-”

  
  
“The back and forth is exhausting, Taylor. I’d love for you to choose an opinion and stick to it.”

Karlie isn’t sure why she’s feeling quite so argumentative, and she knows Taylor is wondering the same as she composes herself yet again. 

“Fine,” Taylor throws a hand up in exasperation. “Here it is, I don’t want you getting pregnant again if you don’t want to. You know that. I’ve said that before.”

“I never said that I didn’t want to get pregnant again. When did I say that?” 

“For fuck’s sake- you’re the only one that _can!_ ” Taylor finally bursts out, turning to look at Karlie with that awful look in her eyes, so full of pain and longing, eerily reminiscent of last winter. “You know that I can’t. I don’t need the reminder.”

Karlie stares at the road again, swallowing hard. 

“Can we please talk about this at home?” Taylor’s tone has gone shaky, and she tightens her hands on the wheel. Her knuckles are turning white. “Please.” 

It was all about compromises these days. 

…. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> I know this posting is off-schedule already. I got excited and a little too ambitious. Fingers crossed the next posting is up this Friday. Please be patient if it's actually Saturday or Sunday :)

_ Winter, 2022 _

Things had been okay. 

Karlie had been holding onto that, recently, the notion of things being okay. Of feeling okay, rather than completely and utterly helpless. Rather than like they were drowning. 

It was a lot of back and forth, not necessarily _ months and months.  _ Taylor wasn’t over her like a  _ wine-stained dress  _ or anything, but there was a palpable tension; tension that couldn't be easily solved, try as they might. 

She supposed that was thanks to Taylor’s job, and her job, and their desperate attempt at giving Noah a normal life. As normal as they could create, anyway. 

The four-year-old wasn’t quite old enough to grasp the concept of fame. Both girls had done their best to explain it in simple terms. The most Noah saw of  _ their _ world was the photographers that followed them everywhere the second they touched down in the states. That wasn’t very often, anymore, as a result.

But stomping off her boots as she follows Taylor into the house, Karlie wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. She’d grown used to England, and it’s temperamental weather, and it’s kind people.

Besides, their house here was perfect. A far cry from the modern studio apartment they’d visited years earlier, but perfect nonetheless. Taylor and Karlie preferred the vintage look anyhow. The house was a gothic convert, tall and ominous with the original brick and mortar, but they’d made it their own. Noah took great pride in telling his classmates his mother’s owned a  _ castle _ in the middle of London, though they tried to dissuade him from calling it that. 

It takes Noah all of two seconds to tug off his boots and gloves, throw them to the ground, and run for his bedroom. Lately, he’d been spending hours building Lego sets.

When Taylor doesn’t scold him for making a mess, just stands there pale and unblinking in the kitchen, lost in her thoughts, Karlie knows something is really wrong.

Then Noah is calling her insistently from his bedroom, asking for help building a spaceship. 

“Go,” Taylor says, still not looking her way. “It’s fine.”

Karlie knows it isn’t.

…

Later that night, as Karlie tucks Noah into bed while Taylor showers, her little boy looks up at her and asks a heartbreaking question.

“Mommy?”  
  
“Yes, my love?” 

“Why doesn’t Mama smile anymore?”

Karlie freezes. It takes a couple tries to keep the waver out of her voice. There were only so many ways to phrase something this complicated to a four-year-old. 

“I don’t think Mama’s been feeling very well,” Karlie lies. “That can make some people feel sad.”   
  
Noah pulls the covers over his face until it’s just his wide, blue eyes staring back at her in confusion. 

_ He has your eyes, you know.  _ She would tell Taylor.  _ That electric blue.  _

“Even grown-ups?”   
  
“Yeah, buddy,” Karlie’s voice barely sounds like her own. “I think so. Even grown-ups.”

“It won’t be forever,” Noah says, snuggling under the covers. “Tell her.”  
  
“About the sadness?”  
  
“Yes.” Noah nods. “Nothing is forever.”  
  


In that moment, Karlie could burst into tears. The fact that their four-year-old, their sweet, gentle, baby boy knew so much more than either of them, it was strangely comforting.

“Give Mommy another hug,” She says hoarsely, glad now the bedside lamp was off so Noah couldn’t see her face. “I love you so much, little man.” 

“Love you too, Mommy,” He says, and then adds quickly. “And Mama.”  
  
“And Mama,” Karlie nods, swallowing hard. “I’ll tell her for you.” 

But Karlie barely makes it into the hallway before the first sob bubbles out, and she stands there in the dark, struggling to sift through the pieces of the mess their grief had made. 

… 

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It was rude.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything at all,” Karlie murmurs, combing her fingers gently through Taylor’s hair. “It was cruel. We’re not ready. We can wait longer. We can wait years, for all I care.”

“You’re allowed to want another baby. I know I do.”

A deep silence washes over the two of them, until only the sound of their breathing punctuates it. 

“I meant what I said, you know. About carrying. You don’t have to try again.”  
  
“I know.”

“Noah’s worried about you,” Karlie tells her. “He thinks you’re sad.”   
  
Taylor turns over, rustling the covers, two blue eyes peeking at her through tangled fringe. Noah’s eyes.

“I am sad.”  
  
“Taylor,” Karlie whispers, dread filling your stomach. “Do you blame yourself?”  
  
Taylor sucks in a sharp breath, and then cold fingers are reaching for Karlie’s, lacing them together. 

One, two, three.

“I know that I shouldn’t.”   
  
Karlie supposes that answers her question. She loops an arm around her wife, pulling her closer until she can feel Taylor’s heartbeat through the sheets. Taylor smells like Noah. Like his shampoo, almond and honey. 

_ Nothing is forever. _

Karlie sees Taylor holding Noah in her arms on the floor of their apartment, four years ago. She sees her wife cradling their son, at a loss for words.

That had been the only time Karlie ever saw Taylor truly speechless. 

“Karlie, I’ve been  _ trying- _ ”

Karlie cradles Taylor to her chest, though she still feels so far away. 

“Hey,” She soothes, pressing a kiss to her hairline. “I know you have. We all are.”   
  
She can feel Taylor’s pulse, thrumming hard and fast beneath her shirt. 

We’re still here.  _ We’re still here. _

“I’m so sorry we lost her, my love. _ I’m so sorry. _ ”

They cry together quietly until sleep washes over them, offering relief, or something close enough. 

… 

_ Winter, 2025.  _

_ One Year Before The Party  _

“We’re gonna be late.”  
  
“Right, well short of breaking the _sound barrier_ , I’m doing my best to get you there on time.” 

Karlie is leaning so hard against her seatbelt, it’s leaving an indent in her skin. She’s straining her neck to see the front of the road, still packed bumper to bumper with cars. 

Harry fixes her with a stern look.

“Sorry,” Karlie grins sheepishly, and leans back. “Thanks for offering to drive us.”

“‘Course.”

  
To his credit, Harry was weaving in and out of lanes on the Westway like his life depended on it, but they were barely making progress. Trying to cross town by car at 5:15 was nothing short of impossible. Karlie promised Taylor she would drop the kids off at 5:30, and was now anticipating the argument they’d get into when she arrived at a quarter till.

Harry’s eyes cut to hers in the rearview mirror, sympathetic. 

“She can’t blame you for rush hour, love.”  
  
“Oh, I think she’s creative enough to try.”  
  
Although Noah and Evie are both asleep in the back of the car, Harry lowers his voice.

“Are things... still bad?” 

Bad. That was such a catchall word. “Bad” was a simple term for everything imaginable. It meant complicated, painful, and cruel. It meant slamming doors and quiet rage. It meant asking Harry to drive her to Taylor’s house because she physically  _ could not  _ accomplish it herself. 

“That’s a good way to describe,” She says quietly. “Yeah.” 

They lock eyes for a moment, holding between them a quiet understanding of their two worlds. This wasn’t what either of them had anticipated, Karlie knows this.

The rest of the ride is silent. 

…

Harry brings the car to the side of the street and cuts the engine. Karlie exhales heavily, looking to the kids in the rearview mirror. Still asleep. 

“Do you want me to come in? To keep the peace an’ all that?”   
  


“I think you’ve done enough today,” Karlie says gently, reaching for the door handle. “Thank you.”

“Had to ask,” He shrugs. “Lou would kill me otherwise.” 

  
Karlie repeats her thanks. She wakes Noah and quickly unbuckles Evie from her carseat, hoisting the sleeping toddler onto her hip. Harry circles the car, driving past with a thumbs up.  _ Good luck _ , he mouths. 

Karlie had been needing a lot of that lately. 

…

Brandon buzzes them in. He addresses Karlie in the entryway, stoic as ever.

“Ms. Kloss.”  
  
“Brandon,” She warns, bouncing Evie on her hip. The toddler was starting to fuss. “Do not call me that.”  
  


“I don’t think-”  
  
“I don’t care what Taylor asked you to do. We’ve known each other far too long for you to be that formal. It makes me uncomfortable.” 

The security guard nods firmly, giving in. 

“Yes, Karlie.”

“Is Taylor upstairs?”   
  
A nod.

“Is she recording? Can we go up?”   
  
One shake. One nod.

Karlie rolls her eyes and heads for the stairs. Noah follows close behind her. 

… 

Of all the times she’d been in this apartment, in this very stairwell, it never got any easier. 

_ We both wake, in lonely beds, different cities.  _

They reach the door, but it’s already open, and Taylor is waiting. Great. 

“Mama!” Noah cries, launching himself off the last step into Taylor’s arms. 

“Hey, little man.” Taylor laughs, and staggers back a little from his hug. He was getting too big for that, though neither of them were going to tell him off for it. “How are you, my love?”

They all move inside. Karlie shuts the door behind her, willing this conversation to accelerate so she could leave.   
  
“We saw a helicopter fly over Regents Park yesterday!” Noah exclaims. “With the lights and everything! It was going so fast, the _trees_ were moving.”  
  
“Really?” Taylor frowns. “I thought they had rules for that, about them flying that low.”  
  
“It was an emergency landing,” Karlie says, and Taylor looks up at her, almost startled. 

It was easy to feel invisible in this apartment. Karlie preferred it that way, most of the time. 

“They had to cross over into one of the neighborhoods,” She explains. “Some kind of medical emergency, I guess.”

Taylor nods, seemingly satisfied with the answer, and then she looks to Noah. 

“Hey, buddy. Could you let your mother and I chat for a moment?”  
  
“But-”  
  
“I left your puzzle in your room exactly as it was,” Taylor says firmly. “Go on.” 

Karlie watches their son run off, and then back to Taylor, confused. They had perfected this interaction. It lasted five minutes, tops, and then they were off to their respective lives. They didn’t linger. That had been an unspoken rule for the last year and a half, and they weren’t much for spontaneity. 

Naturally, Karlie anticipates the worst. 

“Is everything alright? Is your mom…?”   
  


“No, she’s fine,” Taylor shakes her head. “It’s not about her. It’s personal, but not like that.”  
  
“Personal?” The surprise in Karlie’s tone is so noticeable, it embarrasses her.   
  
“I recently…” Taylor trails off, struggling for the right words. “Fuck. We’re both adults. I’m just going to say it.”  
  


Karlie’s cheeks are heating up. She knows what Taylor is about to say, but god, she really doesn’t need to hear it. Not here, in this place that was so foreign to her, not now.

  
“...I’ve been seeing someone for a little while now.”  
  
“Have you?”

  
Karlie doesn’t mean for the question to come out so callous, but Taylor stiffens anyway.   
  
“I don’t plan on the kids meeting her anytime soon,” She promises, eyes wide with a slight panic. “I just, I thought it was right to let you know before Harry or Louis said anything in passing. Or Brandon,” she laughs. It’s a bit forced. 

“Brandon?”

“He likes you a lot more than me. He’d confide, even if I told him not to.” 

“I,” Karlie clears her throat, working to find an appropriate tone. “I’m grateful you chose to tell me. Thank you for that. I’d, um, like to have another conversation if you get to the point that you’d want to introduce her to the kids.”   
  
If. 

“Of course,” Taylor visibly relaxes. “Thank you for understanding.” 

“You’re welcome.”   
  
Karlie doesn’t let it sit any longer than that. She’s reaching for her bag, her scarf, bundling herself for the weather outside, though somehow inside it felt even more hostile. Taylor walks her to the door, holding it open in a gesture of apology. Or something like it, anyway. 

“I’ll see you next week,” Taylor says. “Stay warm out there.”  
  
“Yeah, you too.”

Karlie walks through, already dialing for a cab. She doesn’t look back. 

… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you thought! Like and comment :)
> 
> \- J xx


	3. Chapter 3

Karlie hasn’t felt this reckless in a long time. 

Years and years ago, she would act this way. Taylor and her lived off of this kind of energy, when they wanted so much and had everything to lose. It sustained them like nothing else.

Taylor, walking into Karlie’s office that one time, wearing nothing but thigh-highs and a pair of stilettos. 

“I’m bored,” She announced, eyes flashing with lust.

“Oh?” Karlie laughed, reaching forward to pull Taylor onto her lap. “I think I can fix that.”

It wasn’t a choice back then. It was involuntary, something each of them craved as much as the other. Sex was like breathing for them. Karlie is ashamed to admit how much she still misses it. 

She missed what came after sex, too. The long conversations in the dark, hands held under the sheets until dawn peeked through the curtains, forcing them down the hall to wake Noah for school.

Things were so different now. Of course she helped herself out now and then, but with the kids around non-stop, there was only so much fifteen minutes of free time and a locked bedroom door could do.

Not tonight. Tonight she’s thinking about the number Martha slipped into her pocket three weeks back, a folded piece of paper that she’d shoved into her drawer, an afterthought. She wasn’t ready for that three weeks ago, but now, with something quite like rage bubbling in her stomach, she wants it very badly. 

Jealousy is a horrible, twisted, powerful thing. It’s jealousy that makes Karlie pick up the phone. 

… 

Karlie takes delight in the fact that she is not blonde. This woman cannot remind Karlie of what she cannot forget, and the relief in that revelation is euphoric. 

She’s got green eyes and long, dark hair. It falls in soft waves over her breasts. Her skin is soft, her body responsive to Karlie’s touch, and  _ god _ , she’s missed this.

Still, in the back of her head, her voice of reason.

_ This woman is not Taylor. _

It happens quickly, too quickly for Karlie to change her mind. The woman, whose name she never asked, has her mouth between Karlie’s legs, her arms slotted over her thighs. Karlie’s fingers are in her hair, pulling hard, searching for a release.

_ Oh, dear god. Yes. Please. _

One, two, three more times.

It’s Taylor’s name that Karlie nearly screams. She reigns it in at the last second, falling back onto the sheets, shaking hard with the force of her orgasm. 

True, she had been craving it. True, it had felt good. But as Karlie sees her out later that night, stumbles through an awkward goodbye, thanks her for a good time, she feels something a lot like shame. 

_ Tossing, turning, struggle through the night with someone new... _

_ …  _

It isn’t until much later, nearing two in the morning, that Karlie has the courage to pick up her phone again and dial a more familiar number. 

Harry answers immediately. It’s dinner time in L.A., and Karlie can hear Louis and Rosie talking in the background. She pictures the three of them, all sat down to eat, and fills sick with envy. 

“...Karlie? Are you alright?”

She contemplates hanging up for just a second, but Harry’s voice is so full of worry that she can’t bring herself to leave him unanswered. 

“Karlie?”

“Harry,” She says quietly, cradling her head. “I’ve made a mistake.”

… 

Something about Karlie’s reaction felt odd to Taylor.

She looked startled for a moment, when Taylor told her. Her first comment, unapologetically derisive, was a relief. It was familiar. Snide, she could handle. Taylor had prepared herself for an emotionally-charged reaction. That’s why she’d sent the kids out of the kitchen, to minimize the damage. Noah’s bedroom had thick walls, so he wouldn’t have been able to hear them yelling from there. 

But Karlie, being the woman she was, threw a curveball and collected herself. She nodded politely and wished Taylor well, like a colleague would, or an acquaintance, but certainly not a well-known one. There was a level of professionalism, almost like Taylor was her client. She’d thanked  _ her _ , hadn’t she? 

_ I’m grateful you chose to tell me. _

So formally worded it almost felt detached. That was the word Taylor was looking for.  _ Detached _ . As though Karlie couldn’t care less, couldn’t be bothered by the fact Taylor was now in a relationship. 

God, did she  _ want _ her to be? Bothered? 

The truth is, Taylor didn’t really know what she wanted anymore. She stopped being sure of that a long time ago. Eighteen months ago, at least.

_ We made quite a mess, babe. It’s probably better off this way.  _

_... _

Karlie’s eyes sting from her lack of sleep. 

She waited until dawn to pull on her running shoes and stumble out of the apartment, jogging quickly down the street into the frigid air. The cold has a bite to it, and she pulls her hood on to shield her lips and eyes, picking up speed until she’s hit the riverside. 

Quickly, now. 

She makes good progress, reaching Bayswater Road easily and cutting across to the Sussex Gardens. She hasn’t run like this for months, deterred by the cold weather, and her lungs are aching by the time she approaches the front gates of Hyde Park. There’s no one out at this hour, and standing there alone on the pavement, flanked by glowing street lamps in the fog of the early morning, Karlie could nearly cry. 

It takes her a moment to collect herself. Fighting off a rising sob, Karlie braces herself for a faster pace. It hurts. She’s out of shape, and though her chest feels like it’s on fire, she ignores the pain and pushes on. 

Last night’s conversation floods her thoughts. Harry, though sympathetic and also unaware of Taylor’s new relationship, couldn’t offer much help being across the ocean. Karlie had confessed to her one-night-stand quickly, a blush warming her cheeks.

_“Can’t blame you for that,” He said, barking out a laugh. “Everyone’s done that, love. I’ve done it more than once after a bad breakup. So has Louis. You waited a year and a half, an’ it’s your own body. You don’t need to be embarrassed.”_ _  
_ _  
___“It was a huge mistake.”

“ _ Everyone makes mistakes,” He said gently. “And as much as I’d like to disagree, Taylor did the right thing in telling you first. That was kind.” _

_“It was kind,” Karlie agreed, pulling her knees to her chest. With each passing second, she was feeling more helpless, here on her bedroom floor. “But I’ve got no right to feel this way.”_ _  
_ _  
__“Relationships are complicated.”_ _  
_ _  
__“I’m the one that left, Harry,” Karlie reminds him. “I walked out on her.”_ _  
_ _  
__“Maybe,” He concedes. “But she’s the one that let you.”_ __  
  


_ … _

Back in the apartment, wet and shivering, Karlie strips and steps into the shower. She turns the temperature to scalding, standing under the stream for ages. 

“You don’t love her,” Karlie says aloud, hoping to reconcile this situation. “You don’t.”

_ And I confess, babe, that in my dreams you’re touching my face, and asking me if I want to try again with you... _

Karlie is overcome with the urge to scrub every inch of her body, to remove any trace of last night’s events. Later, she sees herself in the mirror, skin raw and stinging, a new woman, and grins. 

_...And I almost do _

_ …  _ __   
  


_ Three Years Earlier _

Taylor hasn’t felt this ill in her entire life. 

She’s on her knees in the bathroom, skin stinging from the cold tile, retching into the toilet. Each wave of nausea hits harder than the last and she whimpers in anticipation, panting from the force of it. It’s been this way for hours now. 

Karlie’s sitting behind her, a soothing hand on her waist, offering comfort in any way she can. 

“Jesus  _ christ _ ,” Taylor gasps, leaning back on her heels to try catch her breath. “I didn’t think it would be this bad again. I sort of feel like I’m dying.”

Karlie doesn’t even try to hold back her laugh.

“Now you know how I felt,” She reaches to tuck Taylor’s hair behind her ear. “You just have to keep breathing, love.”

“Oh, thanks for that, Kar,” Taylor snaps. “Super helpful.”   
  
Karlie’s fingers rub gentle circles up and down her back, and Taylor exhales slowly, feeling guilty.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Hormones.”

“You don’t have to apologize, sweetheart,” Karlie says quietly. “They call it ‘morning sickness’ for a reason, though. It should end soon. I promise.”

Taylor doesn’t want this to end. The last time it ended she bled through the sheets and sobbed in the car on the way home from A&E. She could deal with nausea at nuclear levels if it meant carrying this baby to full term.

Hope was such a horrible thing. It twisted you into a person you weren’t, and with each week, Taylor is becoming more attached to this pregnancy, more  _ hopeful _ . 

Taylor’s optimism delights Karlie like nothing else, but Taylor sees through it, recognizes it as a coping mechanism. She had several, thanks to her career, but this one was easily the most devastating. She was known for building things up until they crashed down, surrounding herself and the ones she loved in the ruins of her daydream. 

The sad, simple truth of it all was oddly relieving. Taylor knows another miscarriage will absolutely destroy her, and that she will never hold a child of her own in her arms. That fucking  _ terrifies _ her. 

“Seventeen weeks today,” Karlie’s pressing a kiss to her cheek, squeezing her shoulder in encouragement, but Taylor doesn’t hear the rest of what she’s saying. It’s all white noise, the backing vocals to her heart-wrenching ballad.

_ Well, maybe it’s me and my blind optimism to blame... _

Seventeen weeks. Last time she only made it to fourteen. 

...


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late again, but only by one day and this is a longer update than usual, haha.
> 
> Enjoy! Please continue to comment and let me know what you think so far, you're all so lovely when you do :) 
> 
> \- J xx

_ September, 2023 _

The nightmares were a constant, silent enemy.

Taylor wakes gasping for air. She’s terrified, her tears coursing hot and fast down her cheeks, her chest heaving. A strangled sob cuts through the quiet of their bedroom, and Karlie reaches groggily for her in the dark, tugging Taylor through tangled sheets to her chest.

“Oh my god,” She chokes out, gasping for air. “ _ Karlie _ .”

Taylor presses her face into the crook of Karlie’s neck, and another sob bubbles out, this time muffled through her wife’s skin. Karlie’s heart is aching at the sound, but neither of them want to wake the kids. 

“I’ve got you, sweet girl.”   
  


“It was bad,” She’s shaking now, struggling to confront the reality of what’s just happened. “It was so  _ real _ .”   
  
Karlie’s tracing her fingers up and down Taylor’s spine, curling her legs around Taylor’s. 

“Angel,” She soothes when Taylor lets out another sob. “You’re going to cry yourself sick, Taylor, you’re okay.” 

Short, frantic, whimpers. Karlie slips a hand under Taylor’s shirt, letting her palm rest gently against the girl’s back and pulling her in even closer. Skin on skin contact was crucial. They’ve been through this before, several times in the past month. Taylor’s therapist is confident the episodes will stop.

_ Just like an anxiety attack,  _ He’d said, _ it’ll pass eventually. _

For a long while they lay motionless in the dark, the silence punctuated only by Taylor’s labored breathing. Karlie pulls back the covers and finds Taylor’s hand, squeezing three times. Taylor squeezes back, hard. 

“Daisy, you can tell me about it if you want. It’s alright.”

“She couldn’t breathe,” Taylor says quietly, finally. “You were gone and I couldn’t find a nurse, and I’m-” 

Even in the dark, Karlie knows Taylor is pressing a palm to her mouth, stifling another sob. 

“I’m just  _ standing _ there frozen in front of her, she can’t breathe, and I can’t do anything. She’s lying on her back and gasping, and the heart monitor is flatlining.”

Dread builds in Karlie’s stomach. She knows this feeling all too well, it was a frequent nightmare of her own. 

“You were dreaming, sweetheart,” Karlie says finally, and pulls her fingers gently through Taylor’s hair, anything to calm her down. “It wasn’t real. She’s completely safe.”

Karlie lets go of Taylor then, causing the girl to whimper in confusion. She leans for their bedside table, and brings the monitor into Taylor’s view, switching on the display so she can see the baby. 

Evie is perfectly fine. She’s sleeping, like she has through almost every night, unusual at four months.

“Look at me,” Karlie orders, her voice hoarse, and Taylor lets out another shaky breath, blinking back tears as she looks up at Karlie. “We’ve been through this.”

“I know, but-”  
  
“No. Listen to me. You cannot keep blaming yourself.”

“It’s my fault.” Taylor whimpers. “My fault she could’ve  _ died- _ ”   
  


But Taylor’s sob is cut off by the sound of their bedroom door opening.

“...Mama?”

There’s Noah in his pajamas, hair sticking up in every direction, thumb in his mouth.

Dear God. 

…

Taylor has the foresight to smile, to try and put their son at ease as he walks into their bedroom. Noah is only five, too young to understand the extent or source of her grief, but he knows something isn’t right. He’s heard his mother crying and come running, and that breaks Taylor’s heart. 

“Hi, baby,” She says hoarsely, clearing her throat of anymore tears. She forces another smile. “I’m alright, Noah. I just had a bad dream. Did I wake you up?”   
  
Noah stares at her, brow furrowed deep in concentration.

“...Nightmare?” He pronounces the word carefully. “Like, monsters under the bed? Like in Hocus Pocus? That kind?”

“Sort of,” Taylor says. “Different kinds of monsters, but they’re not real, baby. None of them are.” 

“Oh.”

They really shouldn’t have let him watch that movie, but it’s too late for that. 

“C’mere, little man.”   
  


Karlie pulls back the covers, helping the Noah into bed with them. He crawls into her lap, a thumb in his mouth. Normally, she would chide him for that, as they were trying to wean him off the habit. It doesn’t seem like the right time to scold him.

“Mama, why were you crying?”

Karlie looks at her son, their little boy, and wishes they could revise this story. Wishes there wasn’t any revising to be done. Noah’s eyes are wide with curiosity, and she finds herself pulling the covers over all three of them, shielding them from any other monsters, real or not.

Taylor can’t answer the question, this Karlie knows. She brushes Noah’s curls out of his eyes, and takes a deep breath.

“Do you remember what we found out when Evie was born? About her lungs?”

The little boy nods seriously. Of course he remembers, that was a day forever ingrained into all their memories. 

“Mama was crying because she had a bad dream about that. She had a nightmare that Evie couldn’t breathe, and she was scared.”  
  
“Evie?” Noah reaches forward to touch Taylor’s cheek, and Taylor takes his little hand, squeezing it gently. “Evie’s fine, Mama. She’s sleeping.”

Taylor doesn’t bother fighting against the tears. They roll slowly down her cheeks as she stares at their son, taken aback by his innocence and love. 

“We know that, sweet boy,” Karlie murmurs. “Everyone has bad dreams about things that aren’t real. That’s how nightmares work.”

“Really?”  
  
“Really,” She admits. “But it’s alright, because Evie is strong and healthy now. We’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Karlie looks to Taylor as she says the last part, hoping to assuage any lasting fear. Noah notices Taylor expression too, and crawls out of Karlie’s lap into hers, wrapping his arms around Taylor’s neck. 

“I want to sleep here with you.” He declares. “I’ll protect you.”

So Taylor lays down again, this time with Noah in her arms, while Karlie reaches for the light. For the first time in a long time, Taylor sinks into a dreamless sleep. 

…. 

_ December _

Karlie can’t pinpoint the exact moment she realized something was wrong. 

Maybe it was when Taylor stopped writing songs. Karlie would wake alone, only to find Taylor downstairs at the piano, staring blankly at its keys. 

“Nothing,” She murmured when Karlie asked what was wrong. “Nothing at all.”

Certainly months after Evie was born, but those days were so hazy. A complete lack of sleep and high doses of caffeine can do that to a person.

It was the moments in between, Karlie realizes. The transition moments that often go unnoticed, subtle warning signs you drive past in a hurry. Taylor wanted to be left alone. She slept for hours on end, refusing to eat breakfast because she just “wasn’t  _ hungry _ , Karlie, can’t you leave me alone?” 

Looking back, the biggest sign was Taylor’s reluctance to hold Evie. Her excuses were believable until they quickly became escape routes, anything to avoid the inevitable. Karlie didn’t know what to do, standing there in the kitchen with their wailing baby in her arms, unable to comfort her.

Karlie couldn’t bring herself to yell. Fighting wouldn’t fix any of this, she knows, but all the while she felt so  _ useless _ . Her wife was grieving the loss of one child, and the arrival of another had multiplied that grief tenfold. 

How twisted it would be, to try and heal Taylor’s pain by thrusting Evie into her arms, a baby she had wanted so badly for so long, only to be reminded of another little girl that had never made it into the world. 

_ And I know it’s long gone, and there was nothing else I could do, and I forget about you long enough to forget why I needed to…  _

_ … _

_ Present Time  _

Instead of her usual nightmares, it’s Karlie’s phone that wakes her at three in the morning, buzzing incessantly, vibrating until it’s nearly hanging off the edge of her nightstand. 

Groaning, Karlie stretches. Bringing it in front of her, she squints at the name on the screen, blinded by the brightness.

_ Taylor Swift.  _

“Fuck,” She curses, and brings it to her ear. “Taylor, are you there? What’s the matter?”  
  
“...Karlie?”

The hesitation in Taylor’s voice makes Karlie sit up, reaching for the bedside lamp and her glasses. Her heart is pounding now. She’s suddenly very awake. 

“I’m here. Tell me.”  
  
“Noah had a bad nightmare,” Taylor rushes out. “He woke up in tears, and I tried to calm him down, and he feels okay, but he really wants to be with you. He wants to be with both of us.”  
  
 _Both of us._

“Christ, Taylor,” Karlie lets out a breath she’d been holding, feeling slightly light-headed now. “You scared me.”  
  
“I’m sorry. I wouldn’t call like this if it wasn’t important. He’s really shaken up. I can’t convince him otherwise . He wants you.”

Like any other sweet, seven-year-old boy on the planet, Noah wants both his parents to comfort him when he’s afraid. Karlie will be damned if she can’t give that to him, despite their current predicament. 

“I can be there in ten minutes. Just let me get dressed.”

Karlie crawls out of bed, pulling on a thick pair of socks and searching for her boots beneath her dresser.  
  
“I don’t think he’s going back to sleep anytime soon. Take your time. And... Karlie?”  
  
Karlie holds the phone up to her ear with one shoulder, using her hands to pull on the thick winter boots. It was freezing enough out there during the daytime. She wasn’t looking forward to an impromptu three am trip.

“Yes?”  
  
“Thank you, for doing this, I mean. You could’ve said no.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Karlie says, momentarily thrown off by Taylor’s kindness. “I’ll be there in ten.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
… 

Taylor’s waiting at the door when Karlie gets out of her car, fingers wound tight against the handle. She looks frightened, and having not bothered to tie her hair up, it rests in tangled golden curls around her face. 

Karlie nods her greeting, stamping her feet of any snow before walking inside. Record lows in December did not bode well for what they would face in January, or February, for that matter. All of this felt like a bad sign. 

“Thank you,” Taylor says again, when Karlie closes the door behind her.

Karlie meets her eyes, met with dark rings underneath them. Had she not been getting enough sleep? Had she been up, thinking the same things?

Karlie breaks eye contact quickly, and shakes her head.

“Don’t mention it.”

They find Noah sitting on the carpet in the living room, bundled in blankets. His cheeks are flushed from the heating and his hair is tangled beyond belief, but he’s got his Star Wars slippers on, so Karlie can’t help but smile. This was her little boy, alright. 

He looks up, wide-eyed, still shaken from his dream. Karlie recognized that look, it was the same one Taylor had when she woke from her own nightmares. Now she understands why Taylor called in the middle of the night, understands that she had seen herself in their son’s eyes, and that terrified her. 

“Noah. Look who’s here, love.”

Karlie hasn’t moved yet from where she stands, waiting for Taylor to nod, to show her _this is okay._ They had rules about such things, crossing boundaries in their own homes. The kids were confused enough as it was, they didn’t need Karlie or Taylor barging in when it wasn’t their respective week. Karlie supposed this was an exception.

“Hey, little man,” Karlie crouches next to Noah, brushing a thumb against his cheek. “Mama called me and said you had a bad dream. Do you want to tell me about it?”   
  
Noah is shaking slightly, his little body still in shock.

“It was so  _ real _ , Mommy. Mama was here, but you weren’t, and the monsters were coming,” Noah sniffles, his eyes flashing with fear again. “And I couldn’t run fast enough.”

“Nothing’s gonna hurt you, love, it wasn’t real. It was all pretend.”   
  
Noah’s bottom lip trembles, and on instinct, Karlie pulls him into her lap. He’s far too big for it now, but Noah doesn’t seem to mind. He wraps his arms around her neck like he did when he was four or five, and hides his face in her chest. Karlie presses a palm to Noah’s neck and startles at the dry heat radiating from his skin.

“Did you check him for a fever, Taylor?”  
  
“Yes, and he’s running a bit warm. I think it has something to do with all his blankets, though. The heating’s up as high as it goes.”

Karlie peers at their son. “Do you feel alright, love?”   
  
Noah shakes his head, burrowing further into Karlie’s chest. She starts to rock him gently. 

“I’ve got Motrin in the kitchen,” Taylor gets to her feet. “Stay here.”   
  
So Karlie sits on the floor holding their son, rocking him like he’s no more than a baby, and is met with a crushing wave of nostalgia. 

Them, fighting in this very house, weeks before the divorce. The kids were staying with Harry and Louis for the weekend, Harry’s offer, so they could have some “space to diffuse the situation.”

And diffuse they certainly did not.

_ “I can’t ask you to prove it,” Karlie’s shaking her head. “That’s not fair. I know you still love me in one way, the same way I still love you in another, but it’s not sustainable. Nothing in this relationship is sustainable.” _

_ “You want proof?” Taylor asks, incredulous. “Fine. I’ll give you proof.” _

_ She turns, rummaging through one of her desk drawers, and produces an envelope. Tearing it open, she throws a couple loose pages at Karlie.  _

_ Karlie takes them cautiously, looking down to read messy, scrawled lyrics dating back to 2017. _

_ Squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi _

_ I can tell that it’s gonna be a long road _

_ I’ll be there for you at the toast of the town bay _

_ Or if you strike out and you’re crawling home _

_ “Track fifteen,” Taylor says icily. “I wrote that for you. I think you can call that proof.” _

_ Karlie wants to apologize, but it’s far too late. Taylor has walked out of the living room, throwing the envelope to the ground.  _

… 

Taylor returns with the medicine then, and the two of them coax Noah’s mouth open, squeezing a syringe full of the purple liquid inside. It sends him quickly to sleep, and Taylor carries him back into his room. Again, Karlie waits in the living room, alone. 

“He’s gonna be fine,” Taylor says quietly when she returns, pulling another sweater on. It really was freezing in this house. “I’ll keep an eye on him, but I think everything is fine now.”  
  
“I’m glad. Has he been having a lot of nightmares recently with you?”  
  
“Only a few. You?”  
  
“A few,” Karlie admits. “He’s got a serious imagination, I’m sure that doesn’t help. I’ve been letting him watch too many of those Marvel movies.”  
  
Taylor laughs.

“You can sit for a moment, if you want.” She nods to the fireplace, flickering gently in the dark. “Warm up for a bit before you go back out. Leave it to me to have you drive over on the coldest night of the year.”   
  
Karlie laughs at that, unable to stop herself.

“I really don’t mind the driving,” Karlie says, shrugging off her jacket and starting to unwind her scarf. “I’m a bit of an insomniac these days, anyway. Something about the weather.”  
  
“Really? I’m the same way. It’s so unusually cold-”  
  
Taylor goes very pale as Karlie pulls off the rest of her scarf, staring wide-eyed at her for a moment. Then, like snapping out of a trance, embarrassment follows suit and her cheeks flush a crimson color. Karlie hasn’t seen her react this way in over a year. She’s stunned. 

“Taylor? What’s the matter?”  
  
“I’m-” She stutters, backing away from Karlie. “I’m just going to double-check that the kids have enough blankets, um, sorry, excuse me.”

_ Excuse me? _   
  
She darts out of the room, leaving Karlie in the living room, bewildered. Turning towards the hall mirror, though, Karlie recoils from her reflection, shocked. Deep red marks line the base of her throat, several of them darkening, going purple. Remnants of two nights back. Love bites that Karlie had asked for, begged for, that Taylor wasn’t meant to see. 

_ Since you admitted it, I can picture it, her lips on your neck, I can’t unsee it... _

Karlie doesn’t bother waiting for Taylor to return. She pulls her coat back on, takes her scarf and her bag, and all but runs for the door. The wind is cold and unforgiving, stinging her skin, but she welcomes the feeling, tracking prints in the snow all the way back to her car. 

There are tears in her eyes as she settles into the driver's seat, and not just from the wind. 

_ You were all I wanted… but not like this _

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man.
> 
> Making this deadline by the absolute skin of my teeth.
> 
> I am hereby extending my posting schedule to a more flexible Friday/Saturday slot, especially now that school is going to start and I'll be busier.
> 
> Happy Friday and happy reading! 
> 
> \- J xx

“You scared the hell out of me, you know,” Harry says. “Calling me like that at two in the morning. I thought the worst.”  
  
“I know,” Karlie exhales heavily, thinking back to their frantic exchange a week earlier. “I panicked. I didn’t mean to scare you, though. Sorry.”

The two of them are walking side by side in Regents Park, tracking through the snow. No one is out this morning, not on Christmas Eve, and it’s both eerie and comforting being the only two on the hill.

“Taylor has the kids today?”   
  
Karlie nods. 

“I’ll pick them up tomorrow morning. We had to explain to Noah three different times that Santa understands divorces, and that they’ll still get two sets of presents.”  
  
“Oh, God.”

“Yeah,” She says glumly, and kicks at a drift, sending powdered snow flying. “So I can add Christmas to the list of things we royally fucked up.”

Harry stops then, overlooking the whole park from the hill. Karlie’s stomach twists as she realizes where they’re standing, Primrose Hill. 

“I proposed to her here, you know.”  
  
“I remember,” He smiles, more at the memory than anything else. “Those girls took our picture down there,” He nods at the path that leads out of the park gates to Albany Street. “And you lost your shit.”  
  
Karlie barks out a laugh. “I did, but for good reason.”  
  
She remembers how terrified Taylor was later that night, shaking from the shock of it all, wanting to be held before bed.  
  
A silence washes over them. Harry stamps his feet, struggling to keep warm while Karlie fights off waves of emotion. Grief, regret, and denial come at her in full force.

_ Wind in my hair, you were there, you remember it…  _

“You never told me why.” Harry says suddenly. 

“Why?”  
  
“Why the two of you seperated.”  
  
Karlie looks up at him in disbelief, but then realizes it’s true. She never told him why, not exactly. Harry only saw the aftershock, the absolute implosion of her and Taylor’s relationship, and the lasting scars it left Karlie. 

“Taylor had a miscarriage,” Karlie says, still looking out over the hill, over what had been their favorite place in London. “We were going to have another baby, a girl, before Evie. There were other reasons, but we never recovered after we lost her.”

Silently, Harry takes Karlie’s hand. It’s a gesture of such friendship and understanding that it nearly moves her to tears. They stand there for a long time, an unspoken agreement between the two of them to never speak of this again. 

“I still love her.” She says hollowly, confessing what she’s been denying for months now. “I never stopped loving her.”   
  
Harry squeezes her hand gently.

“I know.”

The two of them turn to head back home, and in the early morning of Christmas Eve, Karlie feels something she hasn’t felt in a long time. She feels hopeful, and immensely grateful for Harry’s quiet understanding and empathy. 

She’d forgotten people could be kind. 

… 

Taylor hasn’t stopped thinking about that night since it happened.

_ It _ . 

Just the memory brings color to her cheeks. It was an accident, Taylor knows this from Karlie’s reaction alone, but it didn’t leave her any less shocked. Those marks, like bruises on Karlie’s pale skin, left Taylor speechless. 

Karlie didn’t even _like_ lovebites. She loved giving them, sure, but any time Taylor had tried, it was _too obvious,_ _Taylor_ , and _I can’t cover all of them with makeup, don’t._

Seeing those mottled marks on Karlie’s neck, it was like flipping a switch back on, dragging Taylor through layers of nostalgia so thick she could barely breathe.

How many times had she covered marks like that? With a sweater, scarf, or layers of foundation? How many times had Tree grabbed her by the wrist, flinging her into a dressing room bathroom, demanding she cover  _ those disgusting things, Taylor.  _

How many times had Taylor begged Karlie for them? After coming down from her high, whimpering from the overstimulation, seeking her lips. Sometimes Karlie sucked so hard Taylor’s skin bruised, leaving marks that wouldn’t heal for weeks. Those were Karlie’s favorite.

_ “You’re mine,”  _ Her voice is so clear in Taylor’s memory, she can almost feel Karlie’s fingers sweeping over her skin, pressing at the blooming red and purple. _ “No one else gets to have you.” _

Someone had left those marks on Karlie. A woman, Taylor hopes, for the sake of preserving her own ego and sanity, but someone else all the same. Taylor wonders shamelessly if there were more, more than what she could see in that split-second. It was like opening a door to another world, but Karlie’s boundaries were holding strong, much like her own, and there was no way back in.

Karlie left after that, after Taylor walked away. Taylor heard the door close, but she wasn’t one to go running after Karlie. Not anymore. 

More than anything, Taylor hated the way it made her feel. Because in that fleeting moment of understanding, a moment in which Karlie and Taylor had succeeded in parenting their child  _ together _ , Karlie pulled off that fucking scarf and shattered everything. 

In that moment, Taylor knew exactly how Dianna felt, coming home that October morning to find her gone.

And that terrifies her like nothing else. 

_ I hate that because of you, I can’t love you babe. _

…. 

Christmas Eve came and went in a blur of stocking stuffing, hot cocoa, and champagne. After wrapping all of Evie and Noah’s presents, Karlie was ready for a glass of wine and an early bedtime. Luckily, Harry called and Karlie graciously accepted an invitation to dinner. She was eager to ignore the depressing reality of her recent epiphany, and any distraction was welcome. 

Later though, sitting cross-legged in her living room by the fireplace, a glass of wine in hand, Karlie’s thoughts drift to a dangerous place.

She’s staring up at the mantel, admiring the two matching stockings she had bought for Noah and Evie, tassels hanging down, and wonders how different things would be if there were three stockings instead of two.

If Taylor hadn’t lost that baby, how different would things be now? Would she still be alone on Christmas Eve? If nothing had changed, if they’d still fallen apart, would she have another ring on her finger by now? Another person to dry her tears? 

It all felt so raw, even now. Nearly four years later. Losing a child left a wound that never healed, not fully.

…

_ April, 2022 _

_ 8 Weeks Without Her _

“Why do we have to talk about it?”

Because Karlie couldn’t do this alone, not anymore, not after weeks and weeks of sobbing in the shower when Taylor wouldn’t get out of bed for days. She didn’t recognize her wife anymore, this woman in front of her was not Taylor.

“Because that’s the only way we can move through this, love. I can’t let you wallow in self-pity and loneliness for the rest of you life. I won’t allow it.”  
  
“We talked through it already,” Taylor’s voice is so thin, so frail. She’s not making eye contact, another coping mechanism. “Several times.”

  
“And yet, you still won’t get out of bed,” Karlie says sharply. “You still fall to pieces and shut the door on me. It’s not fair. I’m a part of this too, Taylor. You’re not the only one that lost her.”

Not the only one at all. Karlie thinks of Andrea, of the tiny baby slippers she’d handsewn for Taylor, sent in a little box wrapped in light blue paper, Taylor’s favorite color.

Karlie had promptly chucked them in the trash, that night they came home, Taylor so ashen she nearly fainted before they reached the bedroom.

“Why?” Karlie asks her. “If I’m here, if I’m offering my comfort, why do you shut me out?”

“Because I am  _ drowning _ ,” Taylor looks up to face Karlie at last, tears streaming down her cheeks, her eyes sunken from countless nights spent wide-awake. “I lost her, Karlie, and my body doesn’t understand that. I am grieving so hard I can’t distinguish reality from fantasy. I wake up and I can’t  _ breathe _ I’m crying so hard,” Taylor’s chest heaves from the force of her tears. “I don’t know which part is the nightmare and which isn’t.”

“You can’t blame yourself for losing the baby.”  
  
“Say her _fucking_ name,” Taylor seethes. “Say it. You chose the name,” She stabs a finger through the air at Karlie, the movement almost manic. “You say it.”

Karlie has to swallow twice before she can manage, fighting off her own tears. 

“Daisy.” 

_ … _

_ Christmas Day, 2025  _

The five minute window that Karlie had so perfected, the 300 seconds it took to pick up the kids at Taylor’s and head out the door, were the only chance Karlie had to apologize. 

For the enormous, humiliating mistake she had made by taking off that damned scarf, and letting Taylor know just how insensitive she still was, after all this time. 

Figures. 

Because of course Taylor had gone above and beyond to warn her of the new girlfriend, of course she’d kept in mind the impact a new relationship would have on the kids. She had acted accordingly, like any respectable adult would.

What did Karlie do? She went and fucked a woman  _ she didn’t know _ , and then accidentally showed off a necklace of hickies to her ex-wife. Like a lunatic. 

Even so, 300 seconds felt like a lifetime. In 300 seconds, you could rebuild a relationship or burn it to the ground. If anyone knows the power of 300 seconds it’s Miss Taylor Swift, who penned All Too Well in just 5:28, a song Karlie can no longer listen to if it comes on country radio.

_ But you keep my old scarf from that very first week, ‘cause it reminds you of innocence and smells like me…  _

Goddamn scarves. They ruin everything. 

So Karlie stands here on the doorstep, shivering, and wonders why on  _ earth _ she wasn’t given the gift of words. 

There is a good chance she will fuck up this apology, and Karlie knows there is no rebuilding a house that’s already on fire, but she smiles all the same when the door opens.

“Merry Christmas!”

Taylor is wearing a fuschia sweater and a necklace made out of ornaments, and it seems to Karlie that nothing at all has changed, the woman in front of her is still the woman Karlie fell in love with. Except now she’s sparkling. 

“Hi,” Karlie laughs, stepping forward out of the cold. “Merry Christmas. You’re having a terrible time as usual, I can see.”

“Terrible,” Taylor agreed, eyes sparkling with laughter. “The kids were just packing their things. Sorry, it’s a bit of a warzone in here.”   
  
That it was. Karlie surveys the fallout of Christmas morning, wrapping paper strewn every which way, ribbon flung over the couch, a pair of scissors and batteries on the carpet. She wonders how early the kids dragged Taylor out of bed. 

“I’d expect much of the same back at my place. They’re little goblins, both of them.”

Taylor nods in agreement. Out of the corner of her eye, Karlie can see Taylor peeking up at her curiously through her fringe.

“So… about last time.”   
  
Clearly, Taylor had not lost the habit of a straightforward approach.

“Last time.”

“If I don’t acknowledge it, I’ll feel too awkward,” Taylor says by way of apology. “I didn’t mean to react the way I did. It was immature.”  
  
“I’m still so embarrassed,” Karlie feels like a teenager, hanging her head, humiliated. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, though, that was completely unintentional. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Taylor says softly, and Karlie knows she’s being honest when she sees her eyes, alarmingly kind. “We’re both adults. I understand.”

“Do you?”   
  
Fuck. It comes out sharper than Karlie intends in an effort to protect herself, but Taylor, ever the poised professional, ignores it. 

“I should go find the kids,” Karlie turns towards the hallway, eager to end this conversation and leave. “They’ll want to open their presents.”

“Wait!” Taylor blurts out, fumbling for her back pocket. “I wanted to give you something.” 

Karlie turns, deciding to humor her. From her pocket Taylor produces a tiny, lavender-colored box. It’s tied up with silver strings, so clearly her style that Karlie almost rolls her eyes. Taylor loved Christmas more than any human on the planet. 

“You really shouldn’t have.”   
  


“It’s not anything like, nice. It’s just sentimental.”

Sentimental? 

“Well, that’s sweet, but I didn’t get you anything.”  
  
“Well, ex-spouses aren’t supposed to get each other gifts,” Taylor laughs. “But I decided to break the rules. It’s alright. Open it.” 

As she pulls at the strings, the box falls open, but nothing could have prepared Karlie for what’s inside. 

Hanging from a delicate chain is a golden pendant of a daisy. As she goes to pull it from the tissue paper, Karlie realizes the back of it is engraved.

_ For Daisy, our stardust girl. _

__ _ 2/15/22 _

“I have one too,” Taylor pulls at the front of her sweater, revealing an identical pendant hanging from her neck. “I just thought it was appropriate, for the both of us, for what we went through. It’ll be four years soon.”

Karlie doesn’t have enough words to properly thank Taylor, so she nods, reaching forward to pull her ex-wife into a tight hug. They stand there like that for a long time, swaying in the kitchen in the soft glow of morning light.

“Thank you,” Karlie says hoarsely, when she finally regains her senses. “It’s so perfect. I’ll always wear it.” 

“Merry Christmas,” Taylor presses a gentle kiss to Karlie’s cheek as she pulls away, somehow appropriate in this context. “Tell your family I’m wishing them happy holidays.”  
  
“You as well,” Karlie stumbles backward, swiping discreetly at her eyes. “And tell…” She falters. “I’m sorry, I don’t know her name.”  
  
Taylor pales. 

“Katja. Like “gotcha”, but with a K. She’s Russian,” Taylor says quickly. “I will, thank you.”

The kids come around the corner then, Noah leading his little sister by the hand. Karlie goes to them, scooping her children up in a bear hug, peppering their skin with kisses until they squeal. 

It’s not until they’ve said their goodbyes and are settled in the car that Noah looks to Karlie, frowning.

“Mummy, you’ve got  _ lipstick _ on your cheek.”

A glance towards the rearview mirror confirms this. She hadn’t noticed before, but the crimson stain on Karlie’s cheek is there, plain as day.

“Thanks baby,” Karlie grins. “I’ve got to be more careful when I put it on.”   
  
Karlie doesn’t stop smiling the whole way home.

Taylor, now alone in her apartment, is floored by the scent of Karlie’s perfume. She can still feel Karlie’s arms around her, can still smell the scent of Jasmine. 

After all this time, Karlie still wore the same perfume. 

_ And tell, I’m sorry, I don’t know her name. _

Taylor is so completely, utterly fucked. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, like and comment. Please let me know your thoughts on the story, I love reading feedback. 
> 
> Don't be shy :)
> 
> \- J xx


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! 
> 
> I'm posting a day early because I'll be traveling all next week and don't know when I'll have time to write. 
> 
> I was listening to "Slide" by James Bay when I wrote this chapter. It's a beautiful song. Give it a listen :)
> 
> Love you guys
> 
> \- J xx

Taylor doesn’t mean to end up at the piano tonight.

Yet here she sits, feeling out of place on the bench, staring at the keys as though she’d never seen them before. How strange, to feel foreign in an environment that had always been anything but. 

Insomnia. It brought her to the strangest places at the strangest times. 

She doesn’t have any new material, no scribbled lyrics on a sticky-note or folded napkin in her purse, no disjointed melodies in her head, seeking a cadence and rhythm. The spontaneous creativity was no longer present, it hadn’t been for a while, but it’s two in the morning and Taylor will never stop wanting to sing songs she’s already written. If not to take herself back to a certain point in time, to give her hope for more moments like them.

She hasn’t sung like this, alone in the house, for the longest time. 

_ And I know it’s long gone, and there was nothing else I could do _

_ And I forget about you long enough to forget why I needed to… _

_ ‘Cause there we are again, in the middle of the night,  _

_ We dance around the kitchen in the refrigerator light, _

_ Down the stairs, I was there, I remember it all too well _

Taylor never sang this song for anyone but Dianna, but tonight it’s for Karlie. It’s for Karlie, and the woman that left those marks on her, and the version of herself that Taylor can never get back. 

For once, Taylor is grateful she has the house to herself. 

She cries openly and without shame. 

… 

_ A Week Later  _

Karlie wakes to Noah’s fingers, pressing insistently at her cheek. 

“Mama,” He says matter-of-factly. “It is  _ snowing _ outside.” 

Karlie turns, still tangled in the sheets, to look out the window. So it was. 

She climbs out of bed, not fully awake, and tells her son to grab his snow boots while she wakes his sister. 

Chaos ensues the second the door opens, and Noah and Evie sprint into the yard. Well, Noah sprints. Evie toddles. 

It’s a heartwarming sight. To watch their two children so content in their own world, throwing fistfulls of snow at eachother, undeterred by the cold or anything else, for that matter. Karlie hangs back for a second, taking in the moment. 

Months ago, a moment like this wouldn’t have made her so happy. Months ago, Karlie didn’t remember what it meant to be happy. 

Karlie thinks back to Christmas morning, sees the utter  _ relief _ in Taylor’s eyes when she hugs her, and wonders how much longer their lives will be like that, in touch but never truly together. 

“Mama!” Evie shrieks. “Look!”   
  
Karlie does, sees her daughter holding a snowball above her head like the Statue of Liberty, and smiles so wide it hurts. 

None of it made any sense. Karlie can’t pinpoint the exact moment that guards were dropped, walls let down, but she can stand to be in a room with Taylor now, and she couldn’t months ago. 

How infuriating that she realized their love was still worth it at this moment, in the midst of Taylor’s moving on, following Karlie’s moment of rebellion, right at the realization that their grief was still shared, still something that brought them together, after all these years. 

Karlie isn't naive enough to assume Taylor feels the same way. Love is a complicated thing. People heal gradually, and it different ways. The fact that Taylor may still love Karlie did not change the fact Taylor was currently in a relationship. Still, there was a moment of understanding between the both of them that night when Karlie pulled off her scarf. 

_ This isn’t right. This needs to be fixed.  _

Things were going to change. For better, for worse, she doesn’t know, but Karlie knows change is inevitable and that she is powerless against it. She finds comfort in that. 

She runs to their children, sending snow flying behind her. 

_ All I know is we said hello, so dust off your highest hopes, all I know is pouring rain, and everything has changed  _

…

_ Five Months Earlier _

Taylor didn’t mean for any of it to happen. 

She didn’t mean to arrive late at the studio, didn’t mean to spill her coffee down her dress, didn’t mean to collide headfirst with a redheaded woman in the restroom as she was frantically trying to wipe it up.

She certainly didn’t mean to notice how  _ blue _ her eyes were, how genuine her smile, how unfamiliar her accent. 

“Pardon me,” Taylor stammered. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”   
  
The woman smiled at her.

“No worries. Everyone’s busy today. It’s-”  
  
“Demo day,” Taylor nodded emphatically, throwing the last of the napkins in the trash. “I know.” 

She knew, because on her phone there are no less than fifty voice notes from the past eighteen months. The concept of making another album both repelled and intrigued Taylor, but she had to try. She always had to try.

“Well, best of luck,” The woman stuck out a perfectly manicured hand, a glossy red to match her hair. “I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Katja, I work in producing with Max.”   
  


“Oh!” Taylor shook her hand. “Max Martin? I’ve worked with him several times, he’s a genius. I’m Taylor, by the way,” She laughed. “Forgot to mention that.”  
  
“Taylor,” Katja repeated, still smiling. “It’s nice to meet you.”  
  
And Taylor wasn’t sure, she still isn’t to this day, but as she turned to leave she swore Katja was studying her left hand, searching for a wedding ring. 

It wasn’t there. The only thing left of that relationship were songs yet to be written. 

… 

_ Present Time, Taylor’s Week  _

Taylor will be damned if she can’t finish this song by mid-evening. She promised Jack another demo by 8 pm, but nothing is going to get done if Evie keeps shrieking every five seconds. 

“Mama!” 

Or if Noah keeps shouting like that. 

Taylor doesn’t know what he wants, but she suspects the new video game her father had given the little boy for Christmas had something to do with it. He was constantly showing her a new trick or spin or  _ cosmic blaster technique _ . That was more Karlie’s terrain, all things robotic and mathematical, but Taylor did what she could to sound interested. More often than not she retreated to the living room with her guitar, eager to immerse herself in something, to speak a language she understood. 

_ “Mama!”  _ Noah calls again, this time more insistent. “Come here!”

Taylor had to have a talk with him about polite tone when addressing adults. It was getting out of hand. 

Then the doorbell rings. Really? 

“Come look at this tower I just built!”

It rings again.

“Everything’s on fire, tell grandpa this is  _ so cool!” _ __   
  
And the doorbell rang  __ again , even more insistent. Whoever was out there was going to kick the door down if she didn’t buzz them in soon. A sliver a fear crept through Taylor’s thoughts - who was at the door? And why were they so desperate to get inside?

“ _ Mama _ !” 

“Oh for christ’s sake…” Taylor mutters, striding to the front door and buzzing up whoever was down below. Fuck it. “I’ll - alright, Noah! Give Mama a second. Show your sister first. I’ll be right there.”   
  
There’s a knock then and Taylor pulls open the door. She’s greeted by Louis, who grins, and holds up a bottle of white wine. 

Sancerre. Her favorite.

Oh,  _ no _ . She’d completely forgotten he was coming by to give Noah a belated Christmas gift. As if their children weren’t spoiled enough. Taylor and Karlie had to separate and multiply the presents tenfold.

“...Louis!”  
  
“You forgot, didn’t you?”  
  
“No,” Taylor lied. “Of course not. I… come in, please. Sorry,” She stood away from the doorframe to let the man pass by. “You’re looking well, how is Harry-”  
  
“Taylor, love, s’ alright,” Louis was already backtracking. “I can leave if it’s a bad time. Should’ve called before to double-check, s’ on me.”  
  
“Please don’t,” Taylor cried, and then lowered her voice to a less hysterical level. She’d never felt so frazzled in her life. “Oh, god, Louis, please don’t. He’s been dying to see you, I just need to find… Noah!” She shouts down the hall. “Uncle Lou is here, come say hello!” 

There’s a shriek of excitement from the living room. Dear God.

Noah skids around the corner, his eyes doubling in size.

“Uncle Lou!” He exclaims, and if his mother wasn’t in between the two of them, would’ve launched himself into his uncle’s arms. “You’re here!”  
  
“Hiya bug,” Louis grins, though it’s a bit weary, Taylor notices. 

…

After the commotion has died down, Louis and Taylor find themselves a quiet corner in the kitchen, settling into opposite chairs at the coffee table. It was Taylor’s favorite place in the house, actually, right next to a spacious French-style window. 

Louis is not one to start conversation, so Taylor takes it upon herself to make small talk, uncorking the bottle. 

“Thank you for bringing wine. I’ve been losing my mind a little.”  
  
“‘Course,” Louis chuckles. “Happy to help.”

“Tell Harry hello for me when you get home. I haven’t seen him in ages. Why didn’t he come with you?”   
  


There is a lapse of silence. 

  
“Harry and I are having a bit of a… disagreement.” Louis says carefully.   
  
“Oh,” Taylor falters as she brings the wine glass to her lips. “Been there.”  
  
Louis barks out another laugh. “S’ not that serious.”  
  
“I’d hope not. Do you want a second opinion?”  
  
His shoulders deflate.

“ _ Please _ .”   
  
So Taylor leans in, all ears. Louis inhales sharply, deciding to put it bluntly. 

“Harry wants another baby.”   
  
Taylor studies him for a moment, feeling oddly amused. The  _ perfect man _ was going to admit to something that would make him just like everyone else. It was comforting. 

“And you don’t.”   
  
The nerve is hit. Louis stiffens. 

“S’ not that I don’t  _ want _ another one.”

“But you’re perfectly fine without one.”   
  
A nod. Reluctant. 

“Lou,” Taylor says, gently. “That doesn’t make you a bad husband. Harry knows that.”

“Sure doesn’t fuckin’ seem like that.”   
  
Taylor presses a finger to her lips.

“Sorry,” He sighs, and then lets out a quiet groan. “You two had another baby, didn’t you? What happened?”   
  


For the first time all evening, Taylor grins. 

“We got a divorce.”  
  
“Taylor!”  
  
“You still love each other, though. There’s hope,” She says sarcastically. “Karlie and I… Louis, we weren’t made for this,” She gestures wildly to the home around them. “This wasn’t what she wanted. Not with me.” 

“Well, not with anyone else either.” Louis mutters.   
  
“It’s none of my business,” Taylor lies smoothly. “And I’m in no position to be jealous, either. The both of us should be happy.”

“You’re  _ happy _ ? Truly?”

Taylor turns. Louis is staring at a picture of Katja and her hanging on the wall, studying it for a moment, cocking his head to one side. 

He’s unconvinced, just like she is. 

“Getting there.” Taylor concedes. 

“You know there is a difference, right?”

  
“It’s not like I’m in any position to beg her for another chance,” Taylor scoffs, feeling brave enough to admit it. “That’s a bit embarrassing, isn’t it? Falling to your knees in front of the person who left _you_?” 

Louis chokes on his wine.

“ _ To your knees? _ ”

“Fuck off,” She says hotly, though she’s already blushing. “Seriously.”

But Louis’s eyes are shining with laughter. He’s clearly pleased with his crude remark, still the same man he was seven years earlier, with Taylor and Karlie living in his small flat downtown.

Taylor misses those days.

“All I know is Harry thinks she’s bloody miserable every time they go for lunch.”

“None of my business.” Taylor says firmly.

Louis takes the hint and moves on. 

“Guess I’ll have to tell Harry my bloody feelings, won’t I? Be vulnerable an’ all that shit?”  
  
“An’ all that shit?” Taylor mocks his accent teasingly. “Yeah, you will. Sorry.”   
  


“I still love him,” Louis says quietly. He’s suddenly very focused on his glass of wine. Taylor looks away, letting him collect himself. When he does look up again, his eyes are tinged red.

Taylor’s heart sinks. She’s never seen him cry. Louis didn’t cry.   
  
“Rosie was always enough for me, an’ I always thought he felt the same,” He leans forward to confess it, quietly. “I never wanted another baby.” 

“You have to tell him that, Lou,” Taylor sets down her glass. “Please don’t make the same mistake we did. Don’t keep secrets until they consume you.”

Louis looks to the picture of Katja and her again, studying it for a moment longer. He nods, resigned. 

“No one warned me about all of this.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“How complicated loving someone is.”  
  
“No,” Taylor murmurs, studying the picture with him. “But it’s worth it.”  
  
It was a nice photo, her and Katja in Wales for the weekend, wind blowing through their hair. Taylor looks happy in the picture, holding tightly onto Katja. 

Taylor isn’t sure what she feels now. 

_ For you I would cross the line, they say she’s gone too far this time _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please please comment and like and tell me what you thought.
> 
> Writers LIVE off of their feedback, so don't be shy :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello!
> 
> I've been traveling for the past week but somehow still managed to scrape together a chapter for you guys. Ample time in airports means ample writing time! 
> 
> As always, happy reading.
> 
> \- J xx

_February_

Karlie is not having a good day.

The cold weather, coupled with her caffeine withdrawal (she’d given coffee up as a New Year’s Resolution), and the impending snowstorm were all making her anxious. She was struggling to keep her wits about her and put on a brave face for the kids. 

Then, photographers. 

Five men in black, nondescript clothing toting thousands of pounds worth of equipment. Harmless enough until they started shooting photos through the glass storefront of Waitrose. The one on Porchester Road, where Karlie and the kids happened to shop every Monday of their week. 

A coincidence, maybe, but it’s eight in the morning, Karlie’s dealt with a lifetime of coincidences, and she’s not quite fond of them anymore. 

“Take your sister and move to the back of the store,” She whispers discreetly to Noah, pulling him back from the display cases, out of the shot. “Away from the windows. I’ll be right there.”

_Easily 25 pounds for one photo. If they take 1000... good God._

Her son frowns at her, disgruntled. “But-” 

“Love, I need you to listen to me. Go.” 

The direct nature of Karlie’s tone has Noah nodding, heading down the aisle with Evie in hand, no questions asked.

If Karlie was alone she could handle this. Not today, not with the kids, especially when they’re so eager to make cookies. Noah had a list with every ingredient and he’d searched online all by himself to find the perfect recipe. Karlie wasn’t dragging them out of the store and she certainly wasn’t leaving without buying what they needed. 

She wasn’t letting them win. 

Cursing, she turns to look out the window, glaring at the photographers. She turns to her children, just down the aisle arguing over chocolate chip options. She looks at her phone, winces, and dials the only number she knows by heart.

“Karlie?”  
  
“Taylor,” Karlie says. “...I’ve got a situation.” 

....

Taylor’s word is good. She arrives in less than ten minutes, wearing a grey jumper and matching beanie, golden curls spilling out from underneath. Her cheeks are flushed from the cold but her expression is unreadable as she walks briskly past the photographers into the store, Brandon at her side. 

It isn’t until Taylor is standing in front of her that Karlie sees the fury in her eyes, watches how thinly she smiles at the patron working the till. 

Karlie hasn’t seen her in nearly three weeks. She’s been in LA for two, one with the kids for a Christmas holiday trip, and the other one was her “off-week”, if they could even call it that. Taylor Swift didn’t take weeks off.

“I’m going to file a fucking _restraining order_ on this company.”

“As if we haven’t already tried,” Karlie sighs. “We’re in a public place. Technically, they’re allowed to take photos. It’s legal.”

Taylor ignores the latter remark. “When did they get here?”

“As soon as we did, maybe five till nine? Someone tipped them off.”

  
  
“You don’t know that. They could have followed you.” 

“Don’t,” Karlie lowers her voice. “Noah could hear you. Don’t scare him.”

Taylor sets her jaw, clearly holding back harsher words. 

Brandon is standing respectfully to the side, though Karlie knows he hears every word. She watches as he scans the store, keeping an eye on the photographers at all times, his phone never leaving his hand. 

People are staring now, clutching shopping bags and baskets to their sides as they pass, whispering. The gossip doesn’t faze either of them, not anymore, but the looks are still difficult. Karlie wishes she could make them all understand: everything they do is to protect _their children._

Still, seeing the (former) Kloss-Swifts in public together was like winning the lottery for nosy Londoners. Karlie prays no one is insensitive enough to take a picture, or god forbid, a video. 

“Where did you park your car?” Taylor asks, bringing Karlie’s attention back.  
  
“Three blocks down. There weren’t any other spots.”  
  
“That’s too far to walk with five.”  
  
“I know.”

Three blocks. Six-hundred steps. Potentially thousands of photos taken. 

Of course there had been photos of their children published, but always shot from far away, and never a paparazzi situation like this. Invasive, but not explicitly crossing physical boundaries. 

Until now.

There was absolutely no way Karlie could walk that far with Evie and Noah, plus grocery bags. Even attempting it meant getting past Brandon first, and she knew better than to try. 

That would certainly give shoppers something to gossip about. 

“Fuck.”

Everything is set into motion. Karlie heads down the aisle to find the kids, leading them back to the registers, still away from the windows. Taylor walks over, Brandon flanking her, still scanning the store. He seemed convinced that the photographers weren’t just inside, but Karlie can’t think about that right now. 

She can’t ignore the way Noah’s eyes widen as he sees Taylor. It wasn’t all that often both of his mothers were in the same place. He knows something is wrong, and Karlie _hates_ this, how often their jobs jeopardize the kid’s happiness. 

…

Ten minutes later, it’s been decided. Brandon will pull the car around while Karlie walks out with Noah first. Taylor will follow shortly after carrying Evie. 

There’s a firm tugging on her jumper. Karlie looks down. 

“Mommy?” Noah’s right next to her, and his voice has shot up an octave. “What’s going on?”  


She has to crouch to his height, hoping to assuage his fears on the same level. 

“There are some men with cameras outside,” She says quietly, pointing to the storefront. At least ten photographers have gathered by now, eagerly awaiting their prize. “Mama and I are trying to get out of the store without them taking your pictures.”  
  
“My pictures?” Noah clearly doesn’t understand. “But, I’m not _famous_ , Mommy. They don’t want my pictures.”

Sometimes, Karlie curses the decisions made that have catapulted her into stardom. She knows Noah wouldn’t be standing in front of her without them, but the world she’s forced him and Evie to live in can be so _cruel_ , and today he’ll witness that cruelty firsthand. 

“Yeah, baby,” She’s struggling to keep her tone even, because it would be too embarrassing to cry in a grocery store. “They do want your pictures, and I can’t walk with you and Evie all the way to our car, so we’re taking Mama’s.”  
  
“But why-”  
  
“I can’t explain why right now because I need you to listen to me. What’s about to happen might feel a little scary, so you need to know what to do.”   
  
At the mention of “scary”, Noah stands a little taller, and Karlie is flooded with a sense of pride. Her little boy was unstoppable. She whips her hat off, pulling it down until the wool nearly covers Noah’s eyes. It obscures his features slightly. Karlie wishes he was wearing a sweatshirt with a hood, but it’ll have to do.

“Wear this, and don’t let go of my hand. That’s the most important part, my love,” She hooks her finger under Noah’s chin, lifting his eyes to look at her. “You _cannot_ let go of my hand. The lights will be very bright. You won’t be able to see.”  
  
“How far-”  
  
“Just to Mama’s car. Ten, maybe fifteen steps," She says, and then adds fiercely. "You can do this, Noah."

Brandon takes off his sunglasses to hand to Noah, who accepts them shyly. Even Noah knew that Brandon was not to be argued with. 

…

If at all, Karlie is thankful the ordeal is over quickly.

Evie doesn’t cry, thank god, but Taylor’s holding her so tightly to her chest she can’t see the cameras anyway. Noah dutifully holds onto Karlie’s hand, walking quickly with his head down through the crowd, as if he’d done it thousands of times before. 

Ten, fifteen steps to reach the car.

_Lights flash and we’ll run for the fences._

“Beautiful kids, girls!”

  
  
_Loose lips sink ships all the damn time, not this time_

And then the door closes and Brandon is telling them sharply to _buckle up,_ flooring the car out of the shopping center. 

“...Mommy? I don’t want to do that again.”

Karlie looks at her son, sees the fear flashing in his green eyes, and pulls him into her lap without thinking.

“Never again, love.”

_Not like that, at least._

“We didn’t get cookies!” Evie shrieks, on the verge of a tantrum. “We didn’t get cookies!”

And then, while rocking her to no avail, Taylor throws a curveball.

“We’ve got ingredients at my house, baby girl, we can go make cookies there.”  


Noah’s mood completely changes, his eyes lighting up in excitement. Karlie never experienced emotional whiplash before she had kids, but now it’s a regular occurrence. 

“Can we, Mommy? We don’t have chocolate chips at home. We could go make cookies with Mama... if that's okay.”

  
Karlie freezes, suddenly unable to make eye-contact with Taylor. This was crossing boundaries. It was _her_ week, _her_ time with the kids, and that scheduling was rigid, no exceptions. 

So why does she want to say yes so badly?

“I’m fine with it if Mama is.”  
  
“I’m fine with it,” Taylor says breezily, and because Evie has stopped shrieking for a moment, leans forward to the front seat. “Brandon, we’ll go back to Notting Hill.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Brandon takes a sharp right. “Heading there now.”

Taylor doesn’t correct Brandon. Karlie realizes, mournfully, that so many things have changed in her absence.

… 

_Taylor’s House_

“Here, can you take her please? I have to pee so bad,” Taylor’s bouncing Evie, who’s not stopped crying, from recent events or simply three-year-old exhaustion, Karlie doesn’t know. “Just for a second. I’ll be right back.”

In the handoff, Evie’s sippy cup turns over and spills freezing orange juice down Karlie’s front. Holding back a curse, she thrusts their daughter back into Taylor’s hands and steps away, dripping juice onto the hardwood.

“Evie, _c’mon_ ,” Karlie groans. “I just tightened that lid. Did you mess with it? I warned you that would happen.”

“Everly,” Taylor tries to scold, though she’s clearly stifling a laugh. “You got Mommy all wet.”

“All wet!” Evie cries gleefully, suddenly cheerful again as she bounces in Taylor’s grip. “All wet, all wet!”  
  
Karlie takes a deep breath, holding her sweater away from her body to assess the damage. The orange juice had absolutely ruined the fabric, staining the pale blue a sickening color. For God’s sake. It was one of her favorite sweaters too. 

“Alright, well, this is a fashion development I didn’t anticipate.”

“Go into my closet,” Taylor nods down the hall, shifting Evie onto her hip. “I’ll clean her up. The bedroom is second on the right. Take whatever you want.”

“But you have to pee-”  
  
“I’ll survive until you come back. It’s a parenting skill.”  
  
Karlie sheds the sweater, leaving just her camisole on underneath. How was it only ten in the morning? She was exhausted.

“Thanks.” 

… 

Karlie realizes she’s never been in Taylor’s bedroom.

There is a grand piano in one corner, a bookshelf hugging the other, the walls plastered in large framed photos. One Karlie likes in particular, Noah mid-laugh while holding his sister, just days old. Sunlight streaming through the curtains casts a soft glow over the whole room, illuminating pictures Taylor must have taken, but Karlie had never seen.

Taylor's mother and her massive Great Dane, Kitty.

Harry, Louis, and Rosie cuddled together, grinning.

All three cats on a quilt.

Martha and Abigail toasting wine glasses to the camera.

Taylor, and a redheaded woman, embracing. Taylor's got such a wide smile on her face it's almost foreign to Karlie.

Katja, Karlie realizes. That was Katja. 

How strange, to feel unfamiliar in a room that could have been hers. Her stomach twists.

_Stop it. Focus._

She finds the closet easily, pulling open the double doors to reveal a color-coordinated system and at least fifty pairs of shoes. Figures. Everything is tasteful, like Taylor, so Karlie easily finds a burgundy sweater from one shelf, holding it up to gauge the size. Good enough. 

Karlie slips it on, turning to leave when something glittering catches her eye, and her stomach twists again.

There, hanging from Taylor’s mirror on a chain, is the ring. Topaz set among glittering diamonds, a ring Karlie had painstakingly chosen with Harry all those years ago. 

_And there’s a dazzling haze, a mysterious way, about you dear…_

Taylor still had it. Karlie always thought she’d tossed it aside, an afterthought of their marriage, but here it was. Perfectly preserved and hung where Taylor could see it every morning as she got dressed, in her most vulnerable state.

Karlie is met with an overwhelming feeling, both relieving and melancholic. 

_Have I known you twenty seconds, or twenty years?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment, like, and share. 
> 
> Writers thrive off of feedback - don't be shy!
> 
> Love love,
> 
> \- J xx


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi loves!
> 
> Things are gonna start amping up after this chapter... prepare yourselves. 
> 
> Also, my goodness, LOVER. Daylight, Afterglow, and Cornelia Street are my current favorites. Cruel Summer is also a straight up BANGER. Comment below yours :)
> 
> Love ya,
> 
> \- J xx

Karlie is noticeably paler when she returns, wearing a sweater Taylor hasn’t seen in years. It’s a deep red piece that compliments her eyes, green eyes almost blooming before her.

Taylor has to look away, not realizing she’d been staring.  _ What was happening to her?  _

She clears her throat. “Find everything okay?”   


  
“Yeah,” Karlie says, though it’s a little tight. “Here, I’ve got her.”

  
  
Taylor hands over Evie. “I’ll be right back.”

  
  
“And find Noah,” Karlie manages a convincing smile. “He’s the one who wanted to do this.” 

It isn’t until Taylor turns around that Karlie drops her guard, remembering to breathe. 

In the moment, Karlie understood why Taylor had offered this. To calm down their daughter, to grant each other peace of mind in the midst of chaos, to accomplish one thing while their boundaries burned around them.

But Noah asked and without thinking, Karlie said  _ yes _ .

…    
  
Baking with children is catastrophic, but that’s also what makes it so much fun. 

The cookies are baking now, but it looks as though an atomic bomb has hit Tayor’s kitchen. There was icing sugar on the  _ walls _ , for god's sake. 

Noah, the more practical of their children, had every ingredient lined up before they even started. He scrutinized each step of the recipe in such methodical fashion it was almost comical. Noah liked to be organized. He was fascinated by all things math and science, constantly working to fit the pieces together, eager to build and rebuild. He daydreamed the way Karlie did when she was his age. 

Evie, though, could care less about organization or baking cookies. She happily flung both chocolate chips and fistfuls of flour to the ground, scattering it across the hardwood like snow.

“Thanks for that, darling,” Taylor laughed, scooping her off the ground and onto her hip. “But it goes  _ inside _ the bowl.”

Evie just blinked up at her, grinning wide, and opened a chubby hand to rain more flour down on Taylor. 

Evie was Taylor’s dead ringer, aside from her eyes. She had thick, white-blonde hair that hung in ringlets around her face, but striking green eyes. 

_ “Oh, Karlie, she’s got your eyes!” _ Taylor had gasped moments after delivery, tears running down her cheeks, still in shock. _ “Oh god, they’re so green.” _

It was a process, managing the chaos and calm, all the while attempting to overlook the fact that this was not  _ normal _ . Taylor and Karlie shouldn’t be doing this together, or anything for that matter. The more evident this becomes, the more difficult it is to act as though everything is fine. 

_ Our songs, our films, united we stand _

_ Our country, guess it was a lawless land  _

… 

It’s later, after Evie is put into her high-chair and distracted with sliced apples and Karlie and Taylor are cleaning up the aftermath in the kitchen, that Noah decides to test the waters. 

“Can we stay for lunch? Here?”

Karlie thinks she hears Taylor stifle a curse. This is what they get for breaking the rules. 

Their son is looking up at Karlie in such a way that she wants to say yes, but knows she can’t. She’s not selfish enough to choose herself over their kids, not while this is still so fragile, so complicated. 

“No. We have to go back home, Noah.”   
  


“Why?”

  
  
“Because it’s my week with you and your sister, and this was just a… special day,” She’s improvising, so caught off guard she doesn’t have time to think. “We forgot to get cookies and Mama had what we needed, so we came here.”

And they had to outrun paparazzi, which is something Brandon was more skilled at than Karlie, but she doesn’t mention that to the little boy. 

“But Mama  _ said- _ ” Noah starts whine.

  
  
“Mama has to work this week, my love. You’ll see her next week, like you always do.”

  
  
Noah’s eyes are glossing over, and Karlie can’t stand to see him cry over this. She gets on her knees, pulling him into a hug.

“I’m sorry, little man. We didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“Eloise from school,” Noah sniffles. “She has two mommies.”

  
  
“Does she?” Karlie doesn’t quite understand the comment in this context, but she’s grateful for a change in topic. “That’s nice. Did you tell her you do too?”

  
  
“Yeah,” Noah nodded thoughtfully. “Except Eloise’s mommies live in the same house, ‘cause they still love each other.”

Silence. 

Karlie’s mouth falls open in complete shock. Next to her, Taylor slowly sets down her coffee mug. They lock eyes for a moment, at a loss for words. 

“Baby,” Says Karlie, when she regains her senses. “You don’t really think that, do you? That Mama and I don’t love each other anymore?” 

“Not that you don’t love each other…” Noah frowns, no doubt recalling explanations given to him time and time again. “Just, it’s not working out? It’s too hard?” 

“We…” Taylor’s throat is closing in on her and she looks to Karlie again, terrified of what she’s about to stay. “We still love each other, baby. Very, very much.”

Karlie has stopped breathing. She has to rock back onto her heels and fix her stare to the floor, concentrating on the patterns in the floorboards to fight off a rising panic. 

_...That’s the kind of heartbreak time could never mend _

“But sometimes two mommy’s, or two daddy’s, or a mommy and daddy,” Taylor is still stumbling through her explanation. “They realize it doesn’t work the way it should, and it’s better for everybody if they don’t live in the same house. But Mommy and I still love each other, Noah, we always have.”

“We always have,” Karlie finds herself echoing, and then looks up, taking ahold of Noah’s chin. “Look at me, my love. Just because we don’t live in the same house does not mean we don’t love each other, or you, or your sister, any less.” 

“Promise?”

  
  
Now Taylor is on her knees, right beside Karlie as they say in unison -

“Promise.” 

Noah doesn’t know what to say, feeling something unlike he’d ever felt before as he stared back at his parents, the three of them huddled on the floor together. 

His mother leaves quickly then, hustling him and his sister along and into the car. As she fumbles with Evie’s car seat, he wisely does not ask why she’s put on her sunglasses when there wasn’t a ray of sunlight in sight, or why she is silent for the car ride home. 

_ And I scream, “for whatever it’s worth, I love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?” _

… 

The next morning, Taylor stays in bed when her alarm goes off. 

If the kids were home, if Noah had timidly pushed open her door and stumbled in a sleepy haze to her, asking for breakfast, she would know what to do. 

She’d switch into autopilot, going through the motions to keep herself from losing sight of what she  _ had _ to do: be a mother. But after yesterday, after whatever semblance of normalcy they’d built had come crashing down, she’s not sure how good a job she’s doing. 

If the kids were here, it would be cinnamon and sugar on the Weetabix, a splash of milk, hand Noah a spoon. Pick up Evie because she’s fussing again, scold her gently, give her juice, sit her in front of the TV for a moment of quiet. 

She would drown herself in different tasks, commitments, and projects, distracting herself from the reality of her predicament and feelings.

She would ignore Katja’s calls, fighting off rising panic each time she left a voicemail, that all too familiar Russian lilt in her English sending chills down her spine. Taylor knows what she wants, knows she has to move on and agree, because it was best for  _ everyone _ . Including herself, as much as she hated to admit it. 

_ Hey, it’s all me, in my head. I’m the one who burned us down.  _

Inhale. Exhale. 

_ Breathe _ . 

But she can’t. She’s alone in this house, alone with her thoughts, so incredibly  _ lonely _ for the first time in the longest time and nothing scares her more than empty silence and what it threatens.

_ Hey, it’s all me, just don’t go, meet me in the afterglow  _

… 

The notification sends Karlie’s heart rate to seismic levels. 

_ Taylor Swift.  _

_ 1 Voicemail.  _

She leaves Evie with Noah in the kitchen, promising to be back in a moment, and runs into the bedroom to press play. 

“ _ Hi _ ,” 

Karlie falters. It’s not a cheerful tone. It’s the formal register again, and suddenly, Karlie is standing in front of Taylor in her apartment on that December day, falling headfirst into a downward spiral that only promises rash decisions and sleepless nights. 

_ “I was wondering… if this isn’t too forward of me, and you can say no, of course, but Katja would really like to meet you. I thought we could have dinner together next week? Tuesday around seven, if that works for you? Bring whoever you like. Let me know what you think. I’m free to talk whenever.” _

Oh, Karlie can play this game. 

_ This ultraviolet morning light below tells me this love is worth the fight  _

… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Drop a comment below, let me know what you thought, and as always, please don't be shy. I love to hear from you guys!
> 
> \- J xx


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovelies! Hello!
> 
> I'm making my deadline (woo-hoo!). 
> 
> Hope everyone had a good week. I just started my senior year and people are STRESSED, but what else is new?
> 
> Happy reading :)
> 
> \- J xx

_ Sunday, February 13th - Three Days Before The Dinner  _

“So you’re not going to say yes.”

“It’s a tad complicated, isn’t it? I can’t exactly pick a side. That’s not fair.”

“You’re sitting here with me, aren’t you?” Karlie says, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “C’mon Styles.”

Harry sets his jaw, clearly contemplating whether the argument was worth fighting. Karlie had called him in a panic, begging his attendance at dinner on Tuesday. 

_ “I can’t show up alone, you know that.” _ __   
  


_“I do,” He agreed. “Just not with me, yeah? It’s not a good idea.”_ _  
_ _  
__“Harry-”_ _  
_ _  
__“Love,” Harry said gently. “Y’ know I can’t get in the middle, Louis wouldn’t want me-”_ _  
_ _  
___“Harry,” She cuts him off, frantic. “I’m going to fall apart if I go by myself. Please. It’ll go down in flames and I can’t handle that. Please come with me.”

In the end, it was the desperate nature of her request that forced Harry to set up a proper conversation. So here they sat, opposite each other at a favorite coffee shop in East London, each with questions the other could not fully answer.

Karlie shrugs off her jacket, allowing him to collect his thoughts. She had no leverage in this situation. Asking this was like asking a brother to pick the favorite of his two sisters, which, essentially, she was. Taylor, her, Louis, and Harry used to be like that, siblings. 

How quickly things changed. 

Harry pulls off his hat, a thick beanie the same color as his coffee, and shakes out his curls. Snowflakes scatter the porcelain tiles. He’s older now, they all are, but his smile hasn’t changed. It still wrinkles his eyes, colors his cheeks, pulls Karlie out of her safe place. That kind of smile, so reassuring, it breaks down walls. Karlie often feels the safest with Harry, with the only other person who understands what she’s been through. 

That’s why he had to come with her. 

_ You call me the second you touchdown,  _ He’d said all those years ago, leading her up the jetway, Louis in hand.  _ The second, you hear? _

“If you answer, I will.” He looks up at her, as if to test the waters. “Seems only fair.”

So Karlie purses her lips, looks at the man who has seen her break down on the floor of his flat, who has watched her marry the love of her life and then lose that love, and  _ lies _ to him. 

“I’m fine.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I think I’m okay with that.” She says bravely. 

It was only fair, of course. The last time they’d been together Karlie had nearly cried on Primrose Hill, confessing to a secret she’d hid away for years and years. Harry had every right to be skeptical. 

“Your turn. Will you come with me to dinner?”

  
  
“Yes, I will,” Harry takes a sip of his cappuccino, sighing heavily. “God help me, but I will.”

  
  
“Just like that?” Karlie almost doesn’t believe him, unsure if she’d heard correctly. “No take-backs?”

  
  
“No take-backs,” He nods. “But I do have one condition.”   
  


Showing up with someone she could rely on, a person who understood how complicated relationships were - particularly relationships that had become  _ very _ public in a matter of seconds - that was comforting. It was her safety net.

Without Harry, Karlie was in a constant free fall. 

She nods furiously. “Anything.” 

“No fighting,” He says bluntly, setting down his coffee cup. “D’ you hear? None.”

“I wouldn’t-”

  
  
“You would,” Harry counters. “An’ I’ve no problem with that, considering the circumstances, but it’s not appropriate given the context. She wouldn’t reach out and ask you for this if she didn’t think you could handle it.”

  
  
“In other words…”

  
  
“Don’t blow it,” He says evenly. “For your sake, not mine.”   
  


Karlie has to hold back a childish retort, settling on a civil nod.

“I’ll try.”   
  


“S’ why I offered to keep the peace that day,” He reminds her. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“ _ Seriously?” _

“Oh, Christ, I’m sorry,” Harry curses, his eyes widening in panic. “She makes a song about bloody everything, s’ not my fault.”

Karlie lets it slide.

…

By the time they’d settled the issue, discussed the weather, work, and kids, the two of them left the coffee shop for their cars.

For once the snow is coming down softly, but London hasn’t seen the sun in almost a month. Quite typical for February, actually. Karlie learned to stop complaining long ago, because nothing changed from it. 

Now all they had to do was get on their knees and pray for spring, for an inkling of hope. 

“Got any plans for tomorrow?” 

“For Valentine’s Day?” Karlie lets out a laugh that’s a little helpless. “Not really, no.” 

“Oh, Christ. That’s tomorrow, isn’t it,” Harry winces, completely unaware. “I’m sorry, love.” 

Karlie stops in her tracks. Harry turns to look at her, snow now collecting on his jacket, and his eyes soften. 

“Kar?”

“Tell me it’s going to get better,” She says quietly, feeling as though if she raises her voice it will break, shatter into a thousand pieces. “Please. I need to hear it."

Harry’s face twists in pain. He has to look to the ground before answering her. 

“It will.”

“How do you-”   


  
“I just do,” He says firmly, staring back at her through the snow with a different look in his eyes now, one Karlie doesn’t quite recognize. Grief? Hopelessness? “I’ve seen it from each side. It always does.” 

  
  
Karlie takes out her gloves from her bag, hands shaking, and puts them on. She nods. 

“Tuesday.”

  
  
“Tuesday,” He agrees, and steps forward, pulling her into a tight hug. “Don’t give up, darling,” He whispers, the two of them swaying in the middle of the street. “You’ll see the sun again.” 

_ Said I’m fine, but it wasn’t true. I don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you. _

… 

_ March, 2024 _

“This is an off-limits topic. Absolutely not”

“It’s my job, Karlie.”

Karlie tosses her keys angrily to the counter, the sound causing Taylor to flinch.

“Yes,” She lets out a spiteful laugh, one Taylor knows well enough by now to tread carefully around it. “Thanks for enlightening me.”

“You knew this could happen.”

  
  
“Not after six months. Not so soon.”

  
  
“I never said it wasn’t a possibility. If they want me to tour, I’m going to. That’s the way it works when you push off album cycles for years, you compromise.” 

They’re standing in the kitchen, standing so far apart that fighting like this feels ridiculous. They’re shouting across the room, raising their voices like lovesick teenagers. The truth is, Karlie can’t stand to be close to Taylor anymore, not when she’s acting like this. 

Acting like a petulant child, demanding things and throwing a fit when she didn’t get them. 

“You’re in no position to compromise, not after everything you’ve given that label. They answer to you.”

  
  
“Why are you upset about this?” Taylor bursts out, throwing up her hands in disbelief. “How do we go from zero to one hundred? Fuckin’ _christ_ , Karlie. How many times have discussed this? The answer’s not going to change!”

“Noah and Evie are too young to have only one mom around for 8 months at a time. That’s out of the question, and it always has been, so yeah, I am  _ upset _ .”

“Don’t make me choose,” Taylor warns. “I’m not going to choose.”

“I’m not asking you to choose,” Karlie hisses. “I’m asking you to see that it shouldn’t even be a choice. It’s  _ always _ us. It’s always our children over anything else.” 

Taylor says nothing. She grabs her hat, her keys, and heads for the door. 

“Where the fuck are you going?”

  
  
“Out.” Taylor says coldly, shoving past her. “You’re fucking _exhausting_ , Karlie.” 

_ Maybe you ran with the wolves and refused to settle down, maybe I’ve stormed out of every single room in this town.  _

…

_ February 15th, The Day of The Dinner  _

It happens too quickly for anyone's liking.

Taylor opens the door, slightly flushed, and leads Karlie and Harry into the foyer. The tiny, silver lights strung up for Christmas still hang from the chandelier and wrap the staircase. It was whimsical, like Taylor. For all Karlie knew, like Katja too.

God, she felt sick. 

Karlie wondered, momentarily, if this was how life was meant to be like: Glittering, everything cast in a golden light that stretched for miles and miles.

Harry, who has his arm around her, squeezes at her waist encouragingly. He pushes her forward. 

“Lovely to see you again, Taylor.”

  
  
“It’s been too long,” Taylor agreed. “Louis stopped by the other day. It was good to see him.”

  
  
If Karlie hadn’t been fumbling with her coat, she would’ve seen Harry stiffen. She would’ve seen Taylor go very pale. 

“That’s nice,” Harry says tightly. “Shall we?”

  
  
“Please,” Taylor nods, blushing now, though Karlie isn't sure why. “Katja’s in the kitchen.”

Harry’s voice, in her ear, reassuring. 

“Easy, love. Nothing bad is happenin’ on my watch.”

  
  
Karlie believes him. She follows after Taylor, head held high.

…

_ October, 2022 _

Andrea noticed it before anyone else, much to Taylor’s chagrin.

It was a quiet, tentative question, early in the morning.

“Are you and Karlie alright, dear?”   
  


Of course, Taylor hadn’t been listening. She was struggling with Evie’s baby wrap, trying to cradle her daughter in a comfortable position without waking her up. She blinked up at her mother, puzzled, as she fiddled with the fabric and straps.

“What?”

  
  
“You and Karlie. Is everything okay? You both seem a little distant.”

  
  
Taylor, who hadn’t slept in nearly three weeks, had to reign in a very nasty response. She settled for the more obvious fact.

“Mom, I just had a baby.”   
  


“I know, love.”   


  
“Karlie’s been running her company non-stop and neither of us have been sleeping. We’re exhausted. Of course we’re a little distant.”

At the time, the question frustrated Taylor. What gave her mother the right to ask that sort of thing? To assume the worst at the very height of their happiness? 

Looking back though, Taylor realizes, as always, her mother was right.

The moments never lasted very long, perhaps that’s why Taylor never noticed. They were subtle signs, a frown that lasted too long, dinner put off or spent alone, the office door closed for hours on end. 

Karlie was distant, and Taylor was too tired and preoccupied to notice or act on it. 

She stopped writing songs somewhere around that time, sinking into a sadness she didn’t understand and couldn’t fight. 

_ I’ve been the archer, I’ve been the prey. Who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay? _

…. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Please leave and comment and let me know what you thought, don't be shy :) 
> 
> \- J xx


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovelies!
> 
> Hope everyone had a good Friday. I am pretty much drowning in college applications and homework deadlines... hopefully the next few weeks will balance out a little. :P
> 
> Happy reading! 
> 
> Next week's chapter is going to ruin some people, and I apologize in advance. :) 
> 
> \- J xx

_ Summer, 2024  _

Karlie knew it was coming. 

She knows exactly what’s about to happen when Taylor finds her in the kitchen that morning, her boots on, hair tied up, expression unreadable. 

This was it. 

Karlie is staring down the edge of the cliff and hoping she can survive this jump, because she won’t know until she’s falling.

Maybe she already is. Maybe this is the free-fall. 

“Can we go for a walk?”

….

They walk side by side in silence, cutting through the grass to the back of the property. Even in June, the early morning has a bite to it, but the weather wasn’t the only unforgiving thing. 

Taylor wants to hold Karlie’s hand, but knows if she reaches for it, Karlie will pull away. 

All of this was vaguely reminiscent of so many years back, of Karlie pulling her out of bed onto the freezing doorstep at two in the morning. To fix things. 

Except this wasn’t that. The silence between them wasn’t one of understanding. They’d reached the point of no return. They were doing this because they couldn’t fix things. 

“I didn’t want to do it inside,” Taylor tells Karlie. “You understand.”

__

Karlie stops, turning to face her. In the light of early morning, with a gentle wind blowing through her golden hair, Taylor wants to smile, but she can’t. Now now. 

“I do.” 

And though this was a long time coming, something she anticipated but could never quite see playing out, her heart aches. Aches for what she’s going to say. 

“This isn’t working anymore.”

  
  
It’s a confession, raw and honest, and Taylor know it’s true, irreversible, when Karlie finds herself in agreement.

“It’s not.” 

Taylor tries to smile, though she’s blinking back tears. .

“We tried so  _ hard- _ ” She looks down as her voice breaks, fighting hard to compose herself. “But I can’t ask you to keep pulling me out of the holes I dig myself into,” She shakes her head firmly. “I won’t.” 

“I’ll always love you,” Karlie says quietly. “Always. You need to know that.”

  
  
Taylor laughs helplessly, giving up holding back her tears. They stream down her face, dripping onto her jacket. 

“I’ll never stop loving you, Kar, but we can’t go on this way.”

For a moment, they are silent. The wind swirls around them as the sun slowly rises, and Taylor thinks they could go on if they stayed right here. Hidden from the world and their children and judgement, simply two girls together in a garden, falling back in love. Around them, ironically, but maybe not so, grow daisies. 

But Karlie steps forward and pulls her into a tight hug.  _ Oh _ . This was it. 

“I’m going to pack a bag-”

  
  
Taylor feels her press a kiss to her forehead. She closes her eyes, memorizing it. 

“-and I’ll go stay with Jourdan for now. We can tell the kids in a few days.” 

She leaves Taylor standing in their garden, now  _ her _ garden, speechless. 

_ Gave you so much but it wasn't enough, but I'll be alright it's just a thousand cuts.  _

_ …  _

_ Present Time  _

There are too many conflicting emotions in this house.

Leaning over the kitchen sink, Taylor has to remind herself to breathe. She feels as though if she lets go of the counter, she might float up into outer space, taking any shred of dignity she has left with her. 

All she can see is Karlie’s face when she opened the door, a confident smile alongside devastated eyes. 

This was such an utterly awful, insensitive,  _ humiliating _ thing to agree to. 

She had to agree, had to look Katja in the eye and say  _ yes _ because the woman before her was helping to rebuild the world she’d burned down. 

Katja, who teases her gently for botching the occasional Russian catchphrase. Who cried when Taylor told her about Daisy. Who makes her coffee in the morning without being asked. Who  _ loves _ her, despite the fact that after nearly four months Taylor can’t bring herself to say it back, not quite yet. 

_ “You don’t have to apologize, sweet. It’s alright.” _

But is wasn’t.

Because here she stands, near-hyperventilating in her kitchen,  _ their _ kitchen, (because wasn’t Taylor meant to ask her to move in soon?) wondering how she can possibly think these things.

How she can possibly look at Karlie and want more than anything to take that dress  _ off of her. _

_ You say, “What you hear is true, but I can’t stop thinking ‘bout you”, and I said “I’ve been there too a few times.” _

_ … _

“Taylor says you’re still running Kode For Klossy from London, is that true? That’s such an incredible opportunity you’re giving young girls.”

Karlie looks up at Katja. Looks at her long, red, shiny hair that hangs to her waist. Looks at her blue eyes, striking against pale skin. Sees absolutely  _ nothing _ wrong with her. 

And still hates her. 

Twice already Harry has slipped his hand under the tablecloth, pinching her hard on the thigh when he caught her glaring. She hadn't even realized.

“I am,” She nods, making sure to smile. “The HQ is still based in New York City, but I work from London. I’ll actually be visiting soon to go over some changes to the curriculum.” 

Taylor looks up at her for the first time, confused. “You are? You didn’t tell me that.”

  
  
“I just found out yesterday.”

  
  
Karlie doesn’t add that there was a time when they didn’t tell each other _anything_ about their respective lives. Katja ignores the uncomfortable silence that follows, pushing on through.

“And Harry, you’re no longer releasing music?”   
  
Harry sets down his fork. “No, Louis and I - my husband - we’re working more as songwriters now. The both of us outsource lyrics to some artists we’ve worked with before.”

That had never worked for Taylor - outsourcing. Karlie can count on one hand the amount of times she’d tried to take a “break” from songwriting. It always ended in catastrophe. 

“Well, that’s still quite the creative outlet!”

  
  
“I agree,” Harry nods, politely. “It’s given us more time to spend with our daughter.”

  
  
“I didn’t know you had a daughter.”

  
  
“She’s seven, the same age as Noah.” 

The wrong thing to say. Katja’s eyes flash with a sort of longing, far too profound to be appropriate considering the circumstances. How long had she been with Taylor? Three or four months? 

A glance at Taylor has the singer blushing profusely, staring down at her plate to avoid eye contact with anyone. 

Katja is still struggling to recover the conversation. _Let it go,_ Karlie thinks. _For everyone's sake._

“That’s a good age, seven. My niece is eight.”

  
  
“Ah,” Harry is clearly done with this topic, moving his attention to Taylor. “So, any new material?” 

Oh God. 

Taylor’s eyes harden. Karlie should’ve warned Harry, this was an off-limits topic.

“I’ve run a few ideas by Jack. I won’t commit to anything until I have at least ten or twelve tracks.” 

“Are you planning to tour?”

“I don’t know.” 

“Of course you will,” Katja laughs. “You love touring.” 

_ For fuck’s sake. Like she would know.  _

Dinner drags on, and it’s only when Katja leaves to grab dessert from the oven that Karlie sees Taylor relax. 

Later, though, when the plates are cleared Karlie sees Taylor’s face tighten. She’s angry, and Katja follows her briskly into the kitchen, leaving Harry and Karlie out of earshot. 

Even when they argued it was intimate. Close to each other, talking quietly, an eyebrow raised or thin-lipped smile. Karlie doesn’t think she’s ever seen Taylor so calm in the midst of an argument. They had always yelled.  _ Always _ . 

Karlie has a horrible, jealous thought. She wonders if Taylor is bored by Katja. 

It’s suffocating, the realization that this could become normal, all of this. That Noah could fall in love with Katja and her funny accent and kind eyes, that Evie could be rocked to sleep by her, that Karlie could so easily be replaced by this woman she’s known for barely an hour now. 

That her children could have another mother, could have  _ two _ mothers living in the same house, and Karlie wouldn’t be one of them. 

...

“I didn’t realize it would make you upset.” 

They’re arguing as quietly as they could in the kitchen, washing dishes together. Taylor wants a glass of wine more than anything right about now, but knows this had to be done. Boundaries needed to be set. 

“I don’t discuss business in front of my friends. Certainly not in front of my  _ ex-wife,  _ Katja. That’s not a position I like to be put in.”

“I’m sorry.”

  
  
Taylor sighs, toweling off another dish as she hands it to Katja. “I know. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s not your fault, you didn’t know.”

  
  
“I did know that you didn’t want to do this,” Katja says gently. “Thank you for agreeing anyway. It means more to me than you can know. Karlie is very sweet, I see what you saw in her. I think the two of us will find we have a lot in common.”   


  
Taylor doesn’t have to energy to disagree. Knowing Katja, she’d get exactly what she wanted. Taylor supposes that’s why she was drawn to her months ago in that studio bathroom, her drive was incredibly attractive. 

Standing here, elbow deep in suds, Taylor realizes she’s chosen a woman just like her. Stubborn and indecisive, used to being pushed aside, and hopelessly devoted to what she loved. 

Or rather,  _ who _ she loved. 

…

Karlie hears the front door close and looks up to see Taylor walking out of the foyer, slightly frazzled. 

“Katja has an early meeting,” She explains. “She needs to be in Central London tomorrow morning.” 

“We’d better be going then,” Karlie gets to her feet, looking around her for her jacket. “Traffic should’ve cleared up by now.”

  
  
What an odd thing to say. It was half nine now, but Karlie was looking for excuses, rational or not. 

“I thought you and I could sit for awhile, if that’s okay,” Taylor’s cutting a glance to Harry now, suddenly aware of his presence and embarrassed. “to have a glass of wine and talk? We haven’t since the baking fiasco.”

  
  
Karlie laughs. “No, we haven't,” She looks at her watch. “I can stay for a little bit. I’ll take a cab home,” She tells Harry. “You go on. It’s getting late, Louis will kill me if I keep you any longer.” 

“The kids are with us,” Harry reminds her. “I think you should come home with to get Evie and Noah now before it's too late. They'll be fussy.” 

So here it was, Karlie stands at intersection between want and reason. 

“I won’t stay more than a half hour,” Karlie compromises. “I’ll be right behind you.” 

“Karlie,” Harry says quietly, and there’s a look in his eyes that Karlie knows all too well, dread. She’s seen it in Taylor’s expression thousands of times. “You need to come with me. It’s getting late.”

  
  
Not because it’s getting late. Not all all. 

Harry anticipates a different outcome than Karlie, he sees this conversation unfolding in disastrous fashion, leaving her in tears on her bathroom floor again. 

He's seen what happens when Taylor and Karlie are left to their own devices, seen the aftermath, and knows he has to stop it.

He sees his friend blinded by emotion, rightly so, and he wants to pull her out of it. He wants to protect her.

Karlie can’t let him. 

“Harry,” She says, nearly shocked by how steady her voice sounds. “It’s going to be okay. _We’re_ okay," She emphasizes. "I promise."

  
  
He stares at her for a long time, blinking, counting the seconds. Then nods, resigned, raising a hand to Taylor, bidding her goodnight. 

“He’s acting a bit odd,” Taylor comments as the door closes, turning back to face Karlie. “Not like himself at all.” 

“He’s trying to protect me.” 

Karlie’s voice is detached, stiff. She knows it’s true. 

  
  
“From what?” Taylor asks, as if she doesn’t already know.

  
  
“From you.” 

…

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Please drop a comment and let me know what you thought - they make my day :)
> 
> \- J xx


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday!
> 
> Hope everybody had a great week. Happy reading : )
> 
> \- J xx

“Because of what… happened.” Karlie finishes delicately. 

The door slams shut rather hard. 

“Yes, well, he’s always liked you more than me.” Taylor says brightly. 

Harry was always exceedingly polite, even when he was angry, so this amuses Karlie. He had tried, bless him. It wasn’t his fault Karlie was stubborn. 

The two of them watch Harry’s car drive down the street. The realization that they’re alone,  _ truly _ alone starts to sink in. 

“So,” Karlie says.

“So,” Taylor repeats, settling awkwardly next to her on the sofa. They haven’t been this close in months. “Can we talk?”   


“...About?”

The golden chain of Taylor’s necklace is glittering in the candlelight, making Karlie’s stomach twist. She’s wearing the very same underneath her dress. She hadn’t taken if off since Christmas Day. She’s not sure she’ll ever take it off.

“Us?”  
  
“Oh,” Karlie breathes, surprised. “Okay. Is there something you wanted to say?” 

… 

Taylor wants to say many things. 

She wants to say that when Noah finally found their wedding photos hidden in the back of her closet, the look in his eyes - such confusion - made her cry. 

She wants to say that Evie isn’t old enough to remember her parents being in love.

She wants to say that her friends were right, Taylor didn’t know what she was getting herself into.

She wants to say that she’ll never get back the hours, days, and months she spent grieving Karlie. That she never knew how right something was until it was wrong, never knew what she had until it was gone, and she’ll never take anything for granted ever again because of that.

She wants to say that anytime a song of hers comes on the radio, she switches it off altogether because the silence was more forgiving than the memories those lyrics brought back. 

She wants to defend herself. Explain that the decision, the very explosion she’d planted in the midst of their paradise, had been for self-preservation. For survival. That the growing gap between them, the terse, sharp, conversation flicked back and forth across the dining table like shards of glass, it was already present. 

Tonight had been reminiscent of that summer evening. Years and years ago. 

How Karlie had taken her firmly by the wrist, yanked her out of earshot of their dinner guests. The two of them illuminated by the light from the fireplace. 

“Let go of me!” 

“It’s not a fucking  _ game,  _ Taylor.”

How she’d looked up at her wife, letting out a derisive laugh, taking pleasure in the way it made Karlie flinch. They were already so far gone. 

“I’m not playing a game, Karlie.”

The reminiscing was nearly as painful. The stinging words, guilt and grief, bruised hearts and egos, they’d appeared gradually, yes, but cutting back to it in flashes of tears and shouting was just as jarring. 

Taylor isn’t sure she’ll ever forgive herself for that. For letting go of a person who gave everything up to stay. 

Twice. 

She doesn’t say any of that. She pours them each a glass of wine and settles on this - 

“I’m sorry for pushing you away.” 

Karlie’s response is so immediate Taylor nearly suffers from whiplash. 

“I’m sorry for leaving.”   
  
The two of them lock eyes without fear, daring the other to take it back. 

“I didn’t handle my grief in the correct way.”  
  
“I didn’t let you grieve long enough,” Karlie corrects. “It was cruel of me to ask you to be happy when you weren’t capable of it.” 

Taylor’s eyes widen, and then she smiles for the first time all evening, putting Karlie at ease. It was good to see Taylor smile. It’s easy to take the littlest things for granted. Months ago, they reached a point when even smiles weren’t appropriate to share. Karlie is thankful all of that has changed. 

“Thank you for saying that,” She says quietly. “I needed to hear that.” 

“You’re welcome, Daisy.”   
  
Both of them freeze. In that half-second, time seems to stop completely. Karlie’s mouth falls open in shock, setting her glass of wine down as her hand comes to cover it. 

“Oh, god,” Karlie’s blushing as red as her dress, though Taylor suspects some of it is from the wine. “I’m so sorry, that was out of line. It’s a reflex, I called you that for so long, I didn’t mean-”  
  
“It’s fine,” Taylor cuts her off and laughs. “It was an accident.” 

But it’s not fine. Karlie’s stitching together dates, hours, and the days of the week in her head, hindered somewhat by the alcohol but finding her answer all the same. 

It’s half past midnight. 

“It’s today.” She whispers brokenly. “Four years ago today. I was going to send you flowers.” 

Taylor is silent. Looking up, Karlie sees she’s blinking back tears.

“Oh, Taylor.” 

“I’m sorry,” Taylor’s wiping furiously at her eyes, turning away from Karlie, ashamed. “It was so long ago, I shouldn’t get so emotional-”

“Stop.” 

Without thinking, Karlie reaches for Taylor’s wrist, pulling her back.

“I don’t  _ ever _ want you to apologize for grieving.” 

For once, Taylor doesn’t fight Karlie. She practically crawls into the bigger girl’s lap, starting to cry. Karlie’s arms wrap tightly around her, rocking her gently. It's the most natural movement, even now.

“Never again,” Karlie says fiercely. “Do you hear me?”

She kisses Taylor’s forehead and Taylor leans into it, craving her comfort.

Karlie’s met with an overwhelming wave of sadness, the kind of sadness that used to leave her on the bathroom floor, gasping for air that was already in her lungs. 

How many times had Taylor cried without Karlie there to comfort her? How many times had Taylor cried because Karlie walked away? 

“Karlie…” Taylor whimpers, pulling back to look up at her.

Her mascara is streaming, staining her cheeks and the collar of her dress. Her lips are a bitten red, matching her cheeks. With her wild eyes and tangled curls, Karlie wants her more than anything in the world.

_ But we might just get away with it, religion’s in your lips, even if it’s a false god... _

Taylor rises up on her knees, takes Karlie’s face in her hands, and kisses her. 

It’s like throwing a lit flame on gasoline. Karlie puts her own hands over Taylor’s, deepening the kiss, licking into her mouth, biting her lower lip. Taylor whimpers, tangling her fingers in Karlie’s hair and pushing forward. She breaks the kiss only to place an open-mouthed one on Karlie’s neck, sucking viciously on the tender skin. 

“Taylor-”

_...but we might just get away with it, the altar is my hips, even if it’s a false god  _

__  
  
“I know,” Taylor says trailing kisses down Karlie’s neck, grazing the skin gently with her teeth. “I know.”   
  
“We can’t. Katja-”  
  
“No,” She agrees, stopping once she reaches Karlie’s collarbone, panting. “We can’t.” 

Karlie pulls herself up as Taylor sits back on her heels, blushing, chest heaving from the ordeal. 

What Karlie would do if things were different. She’d take Taylor to places she hadn’t been in years. She’d fuck her until she  _ screamed _ . 

But no. Not tonight. Not with the reality of the situation hanging in such glaring fashion between them.

So Karlie sits up. She pulls the sleeve of dress back up, wipes at her smeared lipstick, tries to smile. There were crimson stains lining her chin, neck, and collarbone. Soap and vigorous scrubbing will remove it. Karlie would know.

“I won’t tell Katja.” 

Their collective shame could set off a nuclear explosion. How could they do this? 

Taylor lets out a helpless laugh. “I know you won’t.” 

Karlie stares down at her hands, suddenly unable to look her in the eye. 

“You deserve to try with her, Taylor. But I’ll always be waiting if it doesn’t work.”

_ You're the West Village, you still do it for me babe.  _

__  
  
“Thank you,” Taylor whispers, reaching out to touch Karlie’s lips, her fingers coming back red. 

Then she boldly says -

“The same goes for you.”

_ I'm New York City, I still do it for you babe.  _

Karlie looks up at her, leans forward, presses a gentle kiss to her cheek.

“I’m going home.”

  
  
“Drive safe,” Taylor says hoarsely, wiping at tears that have nothing to do with Daisy now. “I’ll see you Sunday for the kids.” 

There is a mutual understanding between the two of them now. 

Each of them get to try, whether alone or with someone else, to heal what scars they’d inflicted on each other. They are allowed to try and repair the damage, but what happened moments ago is proof enough that the both of them are willing to fight hard as hell for what they had. 

For what they could have again 

_ We'd still worship this love, even if it's a false god, even if it's a false god... _

… 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay before anyone FLAMES me I promised it would have a happy ending so don't panic. Sometimes you have to compromise to get what you want and that's just how it be. 
> 
> Love you all.
> 
> Please comment and give me feedback or just let me know how you're liking it!
> 
> \- J xx


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> This chapter is quite long and there is some heavy material at the end. I used some different perspectives to encompass the whole of the background, because it's a bit complicated. 
> 
> Happy Sunday and happy reading!
> 
> Friendly reminder - the next chapter is the thirteenth chapter. That number has some magical powers...
> 
> \- J xx

_ March _

_ April _

_ May  _

_ June  _

According to Harry, Taylor was going to release a new album soon.

This was news to Karlie. She and Taylor didn’t see much of each other these days. 

Whenever they did interact it was a polite, concise kind of moment. A smile, a nod, a knowing glance as they handed over a squirming Evie and gently guided Noah inside. Taylor and Karlie exchanged no more than a few sentences each time this happened. 

“See you Sunday.”  
  
“See you.” 

They respected boundaries at all costs. This was how it was meant to be. This was what they’d agreed on - no interference whatsoever. What had happened in February had happened, despite their better judgement, but Karlie and Taylor made a promise to each other. No exceptions, no take-backs. Despite what people may say, Karlie and Taylor were the kind of people who kept promises. Mostly because their entire livelihood had once been built on trust and loyalty and promises. 

So Karlie politely declines all dinner invitations as she is expected to, much to Katja’s chagrin. She does not mention to Harry when they go for coffee that this fills her with an unrequited joy. 

_ July _

So what does Karlie do? She  _ tries _ . As promised, she goes on dates. She accepts Martha’s gleeful suggestions, and types numbers into her phone, and sends sweet messages over email to different women. It’s not until Tessa - a tech officer at Kode For Klossy - asks her shyly for lunch that Karlie actually says yes. 

_ August _

Tessa was much smaller than Karlie, standing at just five foot seven in heels. She had dark hair cut to her jawline, framing blue eyes beneath glasses of the same color. She had tiny lips and a fierce laugh. It took Karlie by surprise on their second date, watching wide-eyed as the girl tried to stifle the noise, her eyes streaming as she recounted an embarrassing story. Karlie didn’t know how a small person could make so much noise.

Two dates turned into four, then five, then one rainy September evening Karlie took Tessa to her New York apartment. The turned the lights down low, drew the blinds, and Karlie made love to a woman that was not Taylor for the second time. It was slow and sweet, punctuated with quiet words and soft kisses and Tessa clutched desperately at Karlie as she found her release. Karlie drew that laugh out of Tessa again, but this time the smaller woman didn’t stifle her joy. 

Tessa’s laughter was the best thing Karlie had heard in a long, long time. 

_ ‘Cause I see, sparks fly, whenever you smile _

… 

_ September _

Taylor knew something was wrong when Noah knocked on her door at half past two. 

“...Mommy?”

Still so little at eight years old, wide-eyed, hair tousled every which way. He was the spitting image of Karlie with those eyes, so bright and curious. 

“Come here, Noah,” Taylor said groggily, waving him over. “What’s wrong?” 

Taylor was still up thanks to jet lag, she’d had to fly down to New York to review track lists and album covers and whatnot. She was still struggling to fix her sleep schedule four days later. 

“I can’t sleep. I keep trying but I can’t.”  
  
“I can’t either,” Taylor whispered, as if it was a secret. “My brain still thinks I’m in New York.” 

“My brain doesn’t know what to think,” Noah said matter-of-factly. “That’s why I can’t fall asleep.”  
  
“What are you thinking so hard about, love?”  
  
Noah pondered this for a moment, then swung his knee up, pulling himself onto the mattress. Taylor pulled back the covers and the two of them settled under the sheets, Taylor wrapping her arms around Noah. 

“Evie and I are at Mama’s house tomorrow.”   
  


_ Tomorrow was Sunday _ , Taylor remembers. 

  
“That’s right.”  
  
“Things are different.”  
  
“Different how, love?”   
  
“Mama’s _happy_ ,” Noah said, as if the enunciation was important, and Taylor’s heart twists to realize it is. “She’s really happy.”

Noah had seen both of them struggling to put on a brave face amidst their sorrow. He knew the difference between true joy and forced joy. 

“Noah,” Taylor murmurs, lifting his chin so that they’re face to face. “Look at me. Mama should be happy.”

It’s what both of them wanted, a genuine attempt at finding happiness, even apart.   
  
“So should you,” He cuts back immediately. “You should be happy.”  
  
“What makes you think I’m not happy, Noah?”  
  
Her son is silent. 

“...Dunno.” He mumbles eventually. “I can’t tell anymore.” 

Taylor pulls him against her firmly, pressing a kiss to his little forehead. 

“I’m happy, sweet boy. I’ve been happy for a long time.”  
  
“No take-backs?”  
  
“No take-backs,” She says solemnly. “Now, do you want to sleep in here with me or back in your room.”  
  
Noah reaches up to touch Taylor’s cheek, like he did four years earlier after her nightmare.

“Here.” 

And though Noah drifts off quickly, Taylor stays up, contemplating her choice to  _ try _ . She knows there is a difference between  _ trying _ to be happy and  _ being _ happy. 

_ If you ever walk away, I’d never walk Cornelia Street again  _

  
  


….

  
  


_ October _

Katja realized after their third date that Taylor was a complicated, wonderful woman. The negative effects of Taylor’s career were long-lasting and Katja was first witness to her abandonment issues, though she soon learned Taylor could be fiercely independent when she needed to. 

It wasn’t going to be easy with her choice of career and level of fame, Taylor had warned her as much in a modest way. Katja would be lying if she’d anticipated situations of this caliber, though she knows it’s not Taylor’s fault. 

Sometimes she wished it was. Then she’d have someone to blame.    
  


There were days when Taylor locked herself in the bathroom, leaving only the hall light on so that Katja knew she was sitting with her back to the door, eyes closed, struggling to even her breathing when it felt as though her lungs were on fire. 

Those were the hardest.

But there were incredible days too. Days when Taylor would send videos and her and the kids in a giggling heap of snow at the foot of the hill, covered in powder. Days when Taylor would pull Katja into the studio to play a voice memo, her eyes lighting up. When Taylor would bring flowers home to Katja, her smile shy and voice quiet. When Taylor would promise over and over again, that Katja would meet the kids. 

“When?”  
  
“ _Soon_.”  
  
“You keep saying that.” 

“I do. I haven’t tried like this... for a long time, you know.”   
  
“I know. Thank you for letting me in.”  
  
And Taylor would look up at her, dazed, shaking her head as a smile formed.

“Of course.” 

Every other week and weekend, this was how it worked for the two of them. In and out of New York City and St. Petersburg, two sets of keys, enough jet lag to power a nuclear power plant. One bedroom, two toothbrushes on the counter, and Katja’s own garage. 

Brandon did not like Katja, she suspected. Actually, she more than suspected. To watch his eyes light up as Karlie came up to the door and then tighten again as she left was heartbreaking. Men like Brandon were fiercely loyal, she knows this, regardless of their own feelings. He worked for Taylor, and so he sided with Taylor. 

She can tell Taylor wished he wasn’t in that position. She wished none of them were in this position. 

_ I’m always waiting for you just to cut to the bone, devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes…  _

Katja knows that Taylor likes slow, gentle sex. Katja on top. Always. Taylor likes to be taken care of in the bedroom. In safe spaces, Taylor doesn’t worry. It’s Katja’s job to keep her from worrying in that space, and she takes great pleasure in doing so. It’s like nothing else, watching Taylor smile up at her, teary-eyed in pleasure as Katja makes love to her. 

_...And if I bleed, you’ll be the last to know.  _

Katja knows that Taylor is clever, probably too clever for her own good at certain times, and that there’s no stopping her in the midst of a creative spell. If the studio door was closed for six hours, it was left closed for six hours. Simple as that. 

She knows that Taylor could be unapologetically vicious when they fought, a defense mechanism from years of unwanted conflict. Katja never took anything to heart, mostly because Taylor would come upstairs ten minutes later, lip caught between her teeth in worry.

“I’m so sorry,” She would whisper, reaching tentatively for Katja’s hand. “I get scared and I strike. It’s instinct. I’m sorry.” 

She knows Taylor has constant nightmares but rarely lets Katja hold her, only knocking quietly on her office door to crawl into Katja’s lap on the very bad days. Those were few and far between, to Katja’s relief, but she can’t deny she liked the feeling of Taylor against her chest. She liked offering comfort, even if it was in that way. In the only way she was allowed.

“I can’t read your mind,” She reminds her quietly. “You need to tell me when you start feeling this way.”   
  
Taylor tries to smile. “I know. It’s hard.” 

Katja knows it’s hard, but she’s falling even harder.

She fell in love with Taylor a very long time ago, in early November of last year when they drove four hours down to Wales. Taylor sat cross-legged on the rugged coastline for over an hour, her face to the sea as the tide came in. Later, Katja sat with her in the backseat of their car while she told the story of a baby named Daisy, and grieved the loss of her for the thousandth time. That was the first time Katja saw Taylor cry.

Katja loves Taylor. She knows this. She also knows that despite her best efforts, Taylor does not love her. 

… 

_ November _

_ I pinned your hands behind your back. Thought I had reason to attack, but no.  _

Taylor was drowning. 

Drowning in the promise she’d made both to herself and to Karlie, struggling to distinguish genuine feelings from her fabricated ones. 

At a certain point, you start convincing yourself that things are true even when they aren’t. That’s the danger of false feelings. 

All arrows point straight to Katja. Sweet, selfless, reliable Katja who had no qualms whatsoever with Taylor’s past or ongoing problems. Katja is good for Taylor, there’s no disagreeing there, but every time she pictures a life together with that woman she spirals. 

“...And I can still see it all, in my mind-”

A pair of hands rest on her shoulders. Taylor closes her eyes, defeated. 

“Sweet, it’s late,” Katja’s voice is gentle as she pulls her back from the piano. “Come to bed. You can finish in the morning.” 

The album was nearing completion, and Taylor was not in the mood to be pulled away from her songwriting.

“No. I’m almost done.”  
  
“It’s half two, my love. You need to come to bed.” 

“Katja, I  _ just _ said I was almost done.”   
  
Silence. Then pressure next to her. Taylor turns to look at her girlfriend, with her red hair in soft curls and swollen eyes staring back at her. How long had she been up, waiting for Taylor? 

Around them, a dark quiet. Even the cats were sleeping upstairs. Benjamin had idled about her legs around midnight for a while before giving up. Katja reaches over to the piano lamp, switching it on so that the harsh fluorescent light fills the studio. Taylor flinches away from it. 

“Can I make a statement?”

_At two am? What could go wrong?_  
  
“Yes.” Taylor says tightly, bracing herself. 

“You don’t love me.”

Taylor looks up, aghast.

“I-” She falters, searching for how to phrase it delicately. “I...  _ deeply _ care for you.”

_ True.  _

“But not love.”

“No.”

_ True _ . 

Taylor wants to say “not yet”, but knows she’s in no position to compromise. Not after what happened months earlier, what Katja still doesn't know. 

“I’m not Karlie,” Katja says, her eyes flashing in pain. 

“You’re not,” Taylor shakes her head helplessly. “But I’ve never asked you to be.”

“The two of you had something incredibly passionate, I don’t think I fully understood the extent of your love for her.”

Taylor pulls away from the piano, turning fully to face Katja. The older woman’s face is tight with betrayal, but she pushes on. 

“We did. I fell in love with Karlie in an incredibly difficult and frightening part of my life.”

“And she protected you.”

“I don’t think she ever stopped.”

“I see.” Katja says stiffly. 

Taylor knows she does.

Sitting there, staring back at the one woman she cannot love with the same force, Taylor realizes something horrible. 

This had happened before. Taylor had once desperately asking another woman to love her the same way Taylor loved  _ her _ . 

She has become the woman she always feared she would. 

She has become exactly like Dianna. 

… 

_...Hi! I’m probably writing songs. Leave a message and I’ll try my best to get back to you. Thanks, Taylor.  _

“ _ Fuck _ .” Harry swore. “She always has her phone on. It’s half ten. Why wouldn’t she have her phone on at this time?!”   


He looks down at Karlie, eyes wild with a kind of terror she’s only experienced once in her life - when she went into labor. 

Pure, undiluted fear. It does terrible things to people. 

“I don’t - I can’t get ahold of her. What do you want me to do?”   
  
Karlie’s curled on the kitchen floor holding her daughter against her chest as she struggles to breathe. Evie clutches desperately at the nebulizer mask Karlie’s strapped onto her, sucking in rasping breaths. 

“Call an ambulance.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Please comment below and let me know what you thought.
> 
> Honestly, even one sentence makes my day. Don't be shy :)
> 
> \- J xx


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank god it's Saturday!!!! 
> 
> The week dragged on and I was genuinely concerned I wouldn't make it. 
> 
> Chapter 13 here we go! Happy reading friends.
> 
> \- J xx

_ Hour Six. 16:00. _

“D’ you want me to call your mum, Karlie?”  
  
“Ple-” Karlie has to clear her throat and try again. “Please,” She tells Harry hoarsley. “Thank you. She’ll be up by now.”   
  
Harry’s already dialing, stepping quickly out into the hall to deliver the same news for the eighth time today. How do you tell someone their granddaughter might not last the night? Karlie doesn’t know. 

Taylor, next to her, is silent. She’s bent over their daughter, hands clasped in Evie’s, eyes closed and murmuring quietly to herself. 

She’s praying, Karlie realizes. Maybe Karlie should be praying too. 

…

This was all wrong. Evie, lying motionless on the hospital bed, covered in wires and tubing. Where was her joy? Where was her constant, warbling laughter? 

“We’ve put your daughter on a ventilator to take some of the strain off of her lungs.” 

_ Breathe.  _

“She’s currently stable, but with a congenital defect as rare as hers, we need to be prepared for anything.”  
  
_In and out._

  
“I’m cautiously optimistic. She’s tiny, but she’s fighting hard.” 

_ Be strong.  _

_ Be strong for her if you can’t be for yourself.  _

_ Be fucking strong.  _

Infantile Lobar Emphysema. Commonly known as ILE in the NICU ward. Karlie’s got those three letters burned into the back of her eyelids to this day. They were stamped on Evie’s wristband the second she was born in bright red ink. Red, like ambulance sirens. 

To put it simply, Evie was born with lungs incapable of deflating. She could only take in air, which resulted in her lungs inflating to an irreversible size and several emergency surgeries to correct it. 

So at just four-years-old, Evie has a partially resected right lung and a stent placed in her trachea to control her air flow. 

In the beginning, every step forward was a victory. 

It was a sobering sight, Taylor cradling their little girl - just hours old - to her chest. Her tiny cheeks should have been flushed, but her skin was already turning blue. Karlie and Taylor named her quickly in anticipation of the worst, while Andrea stepped discreetly out into the hall, stifling tears. 

“You’re sure?”   
  
Taylor nods fiercely, tone void of all emotion. 

“Everly.”   
  
Everly it was, after Taylor’s grandmother. Evie, for short. 

“A strong name for a strong girl,” Their surgeon commented when Evie came off the anesthesia, seemingly unphased by the operation. “She’s going to make it, you two. You’ve got a fighter.” 

Karlie’s never seen Taylor cry that hard - realizing their baby was going to live. 

… 

“Her hands are warm.”   
  
“What?”

Karlie hasn’t slept in eighteen hours now, refusing to leave Taylor’s side as they sit with Evie. Her vision was starting to go, fading around the edges. Harry asked if she wanted coffee hours ago, but she didn’t want to be jittery, so she’d declined.   
  
“Her hands,” Taylor repeats, squeezing Evie’s fingers gently. “They’ve never been this warm before.”  
  
“It’s the ventilator,” Karlie slips her hand under Taylor’s, covering Evie’s tiny palm. “She finally has enough oxygen.” 

Taylor’s eyes close. “I should’ve been in the ambulance with her.”  
  
“You were asleep.”  
  
“I wouldn’t have been asleep if I just stayed in London year-round like a good _mother-_ ” 

Karlie looks down as Taylor’s voice breaks, focusing intently on Evie’s fingernails. 

“Dr. Kepari wants to resect a part of her right lung. He thinks it might solve the problem for now.”   
  
_ For now.  _ That’s all they could ask for. To put a bandaid over the bullethole, buy them enough time to come up with a real solution. 

“Okay,” Taylor’s blinking furiously, sweeping blonde curls back form Evie’s forehead. She nods firmly, her decision made. “Okay. Let’s do it.” 

… 

Strange, how children can change everything in an instant. 

Regardless of their circumstances, regardless of their feelings, Karlie knows Taylor would’ve run into arms all the same when she reached the ICU. They could’ve hated each other and Taylor still would’ve left Katja standing motionless in the doorway to pull a chair up alongside Karlie and sit in front of their daughter. 

Their children over anything else. A non-negotiable, unspoken agreement between the two of them. 

Katja looks slightly heartbroken as she stands there, watching the two of them. Karlie stares straight through her. This was no longer a shared space. Boundaries were up, red and flashing, daring anyone to trespass. 

_ Not your ground. Ours.  _

Taylor’s already lost one baby. Karlie will be damned if she loses another. 

…

_ Hour 9, 19:00. _

  
Three hours had passed in what seemed like minutes. From pacing the hospital room, to consulting with different nurses, doctors, and lung specialists, Karlie and Taylor were just about at their wit’s end. It was slow, painful process, evaluating Evie for surgery and then re-consulting with different surgeons in the ICU wing. 

Taylor could scarcely breathe. She’s overcome with flashes of the same memory, on and off, flashing as unforgivingly as the sirens that brought them here. 

_ No fucking way. _

_ The two lines are undeniable, etched clearly in purple on the stick. Jesus Christ. She’s going to pass out.  _

_ No. This can’t happen. No. _

_ Successful conception after the first round? Impossible. Last time, Taylor hadn’t gotten pregnant until their third round of IVF.  _

_ And then she’d lost that baby.  _

… 

Dr. Kepari, the ICU lung specialist they’d been working with since Evie was born, was concerned that her oxygen levels had dropped so fast, so quickly. He asked Karlie whether she’d done anything different from their normal routine. 

“Did you give her the breathing treatment last night?” He asked. “I’m not blaming, it’s no one's fault what’s happened here, I’d just like to get all the information I can-”   
  
Karlie shakes her head miserably. 

“She fell asleep early. She’d had a long day and I didn’t want to wake her up-”

“She has to be on the nebulizer every night, Karlie!” Taylor gasp. “She can’t breathe properly without it-”  
  
“You think I don’t _know_ that? I was going to give her a double treatment in the morning!” 

“Well, I’m seriously doubting it considering that our daughter nearly went into lung failure!”

“Maybe if you weren’t flying around the world on a weekly basis I could update you more frequently!” 

Dr. Kepari exits quickly and quietly, deciding it best that he let this resolve itself without his presence. 

“Oh,  _ that’s _ rich,” Taylor’s sentence is suddenly cut short.

Karlie balks. 

Taylor’s going to cry. Taylor’s eyes are wide and welling up with  _ tears _ and Karlie hasn’t seen her cry out of anger in years.

Before she can say anything, there’s a firm hand on her wrist, tugging her to the side. 

Harry. She yelps in pain.

“I wasn’t-”  
  
“Don’t care,”  
  
“She _said-_ ”

“Don’t fuckin’ care,” Harry growls. “M’ not gonna let the two of you have a domestic in front of your daughter. Not like this,” He points angrily to the door. “Out.”

He cuts a sharp look Taylor’s way.

“Goes for you too, Swift.”   
  
Taylor’s lip quivers, but she holds his stare.

“The both of you know better,” Harry says, standing protectively in front of Evie’s bed. “I’ve got her. Take it outside.” 

So, blood boiling, the two of them stalk out into the hallway. 

… 

“I shouldn’t have yelled… It’s my fault she’s even like this, for God's sake.”   
  
Karlie’s face twists into an expression of such disgust and devastation that Taylor nearly regrets saying it.   
  


“How dare you blame yourself for that. For her.”   
  
“There’s no one else to blame!” Taylor hisses. “I’m her _mother_.”  
  
“It could’ve easily happened to me while I was pregnant with Noah,” Karlie says firmly. “It was a freak genetic anomaly, Taylor. Don’t put that on yourself. It’s not fair.” 

“No, what’s not fucking fair, Karlie, is our daughter is going into emergency corrective lung surgey. That’s what’s not fucking  _ fair _ .” 

Silence. 

“I can’t go through this alone,” Karlie says fiercely. “I won’t. We have to be on the same team for her. Our children above anything else, Taylor. We swore it.”   
  
Taylor sets her jaw, unable to disagree.

“We did.”  
  
“Our children deserve two parents-”  
  
“ _Together_ ,” Taylor finishes, closing her eyes in defeat. “I know they do.” 

“The most selfish thing we’ve ever done is take that away from them.”   
  
The ugly truth hangs between them in the fluorescent lighting. 

“I shouldn’t have walked away. I should’ve tried harder, should’ve fought for us-”

“Jesus Christ, do you have any idea how _ashamed_ I felt?” Taylor demands. “That I had forced you away? That I let it get to the point where you thought you had no choice? This isn’t on you!”  
  
“Taylor-”  
  
“ _Dianna_ did that to me. I am not Dianna. I never wanted to be her. God _dammit_ , Karlie,” she curses. “How on earth could you feel guilty? It was never your fault.” 

  
“I do.”  
  
“Why the fuck would you?” 

“Because I  _ love _ you!” Karlie cries, and there it is, out in the open at last. “I love you and I was the one to walk away. Do you know how helpless I felt?”

Silence. Taylor regards her with wide, helpless eyes.   
  
“Yes.” She says shakily. “Because I did it to Dianna. I know how it feels.”  
  
“I can’t believe I let it get that far…” Karlie’s rambling now, her thoughts working faster than her lips can. “I can’t believe I thought that was the right solution, to just walk out on you.”  
  


“I know. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for it. For asking you to leave.”  
  
“Well, I’ve never forgiven myself for walking away,” Karlie says bitterly. “But you know what? We can give it another go someday. Right now, our daughter needs us. I’ll be damned if we can’t stand to be around each other long enough to support her.” 

They head back inside together, heads held high. Harry looks exasperated as they do.

“Figures.”  
  
“Fuck off,” The both of them say in unison. 

...

Evie isn’t taken off the ventilator until minutes before the surgery team wheels her away. She doesn’t regain consciousness in that time, but the nurses allow Karlie and Taylor to climb onto the mattress and hold their daughter, cradling her for perhaps the last time. 

Harry stands guard at the door, lest someone is cruel enough to try and take a picture. Stranger things had happened.

“My sweet, strong, brave, beautiful little girl,” Taylor murmurs, leaning her head against Karlie’s shoulder as she thumbs over Evie’s tiny cheeks. “I need you to fight for me, sweetheart. Fight for us.” 

As Evie is taken down the hall, Karlie lets the tears she’d been holding back for hours fall. She lets out a sob so loud and heartbroken that Harry draws the blinds and locks the door. 

Taylor takes Karlie into her arms, bundling the two of them into one of the hospital chairs, encouraging her to let it out. 

“I want to,” Taylor says hoarsely in Karlie’s ear, rocking her like she did Evie moments early. “I want to try again.”   
  
Karlie nods fiercely, her chest still shaking from her tears.

“Soon.” 

… 

_ All I know is a newfound grace, all my days I’ll know your face, All I know since yesterday… _

_ Is everything has changed.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for reading and commenting and overall being lovely people. 
> 
> Every piece of feedback/compliment/comment I get makes my day so please continue to let me know what you think of every chapter! 
> 
> \- J xx


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday everyone!
> 
> I'm posting this chapter a bit earlier because I'll be traveling next weekend and likely will not have time to write. 
> 
> Hope everyone has a great weekend :) Happy reading.
> 
> \- J xx

“I’m afraid I can’t let you inside.”

Polite, but firm. These were the sole qualities of Brandon’s personality as far as Katja had observed. It was infuriating. She’s standing here, holding a bouquet of flowers and one of Evie’s stuffed animals, looking like an absolute _idiot_ because she knows who makes these rules. _Taylor_ makes these rules. _Taylor_ wasn’t letting her in.   


“You can’t make an exception?”  
  
“I cannot.”  
  
“Brandon, that’s my girlfriend in there.” Katja says sharply. “With her very ill daughter. I’d like to support them.”  
  
“Ms. Yurievna-”  
  
“My name is _Katja_ ,” She says icily, finally losing her temper. “We’ve seen each other every day for nearly a year and a half now. I’m well aware you don’t like me, you’ve made that very clear, but do you think we could stick to a name-to-name basis anyway? For the sake of simplicity?”

Brandon doesn’t so much as blink at her, completely unperturbed.

_Dick_. 

“Katja,” Brandon says calmly. “Taylor has asked that no one be let into Evie’s room aside from the people on this list-” He holds up a piece of folded scratch paper. Katja can recognize Taylor’s whimsical handwriting. “-You are not on that list.” 

Katja has to take a deep breath to refrain from shouting something far too obscene for the ICU wing of a hospital. 

“Will you tell her that I will be leaving a voicemail? And that I’d appreciate if she could listen to it?”  
  
“I’ll pass it along when I get the chance.”

_Oh, great. Splendid. Thank you for being so accommodating, you son of a-_

“Thank you.” She says tightly.

And Katja turns around and heads down the stairs, walking out the glass doors of the ICU wing and chucking the flowers straight into the bin. 

_People are people and sometimes it doesn’t work out, but nothing we say is gonna save us from the fallout…_

…

It’s joy. Pure, unrefined, heart-pounding, euphoric _joy_ when Evie opens her eyes two days after the surgery. 

There had been no complications. A textbook surgery as far as Dr. Kepari was concerned, especially with congenital defects as delicate as Evie’s. But the waiting game was still torturous, and seeing her little eyelids flutter open is like daylight streaming through the curtains after weeks of rain. 

She’s groggy and disoriented, her little body still struggling to cope with the massive trauma that is a lung resection. But she blinks a few times, sees her mother’s leaning over her, and she _smiles_. 

And Karlie knows. She knows Evie’s going to be okay. 

...

After that, it was putting one foot in front of the other, and just that simple action was exhausting. Taylor moved in with Karlie short-term to take care of Evie post-surgery. There was no other option. Driving back and forth across town made no sense, not when their daughter couldn’t even sit up on her own. 

“It’s fine,” Karlie assured, though she was momentarily sidelined by the question. “Of course, I’ll set up the guest room. Don’t worry.”

It just about drove Katja to the brink, but despite the scathing voicemail she’d left Taylor about being _shut out emotionally and physically,_ she didn’t break up with Taylor. 

Thus followed the fight of all fights between Russia and America, resulting in several ultimatums and compromises. Karlie quickly ushered Noah into Evie’s bedroom, shutting herself and the kids away from the voices growing louder by the second. 

“Because I’m her _mother_ !” Taylor shrieked. “You don’t get to tell me what to do with my children because you don’t _have any!”_

“You shut me out without even thinking!” Katja sounds like she’s on the verge of tears. “I give everything and get _nothing_ in return!”   
  
Slamming doors, heavy footsteps. Karlie knew both sounds well. She’d be lying if she didn’t eagerly anticipate the downfall of the relationship. She only took secret pleasure in its implosion because Taylor was so noticeably happier without Katja around. 

Karlie knows Taylor holds on because Katja is supposed to be good for her. But good things fall apart constantly. 

_She doesn’t want her,_ Karlie thinks, hopes, _prays_ constantly. _She doesn’t._

_…_

So Katja and Taylor don’t break up, but Karlie does end things with Tessa. 

It was dealt with in the best way, over coffee in a quiet bakery in East London, a favorite spot of theirs.

“I don’t want you thinking it was ever your fault. In any capacity,” Karlie pleads. “I can’t be selfish with you. You deserve so much better than a woman who can’t love you with her whole being.”  
  
And Tessa, misty-eyed and touched, nodded. 

“I did love you.”  
  
“I know,” Karlie says quietly, reaching out a hand to cover Tessa’s. “And I’m sorry. Truly.”  


They exit the bakery, sharing a quiet moment and a hug before parting separate ways, walking down different streets towards their vastly different lives. 

… 

Thanksgiving is now rapidly approaching, and Evie’s healed significantly in the past three weeks. 

It had been a slow, devastating process, watching their daughter struggle to do anything she could’ve done weeks earlier with ease. Changing bandage dressings, drainage tubes, keeping incisions clean, portioning out pain medications and fluids and inserting IVs could keep a whole team of nurses busy, but Karlie and Taylor did it together like a pair of goddamn experts. 

The nebulizer mask went on three times a day, without fail. No exceptions whatsoever. 

Taylor and Karlie alternated, rocking Evie in her chair to soothe her the best they could. Strapping a breathing mask to a toddler that pumped hot steam down her throat for thirty minutes was no easy task. Taylor was far more ruthless with it, to Karlie’s surprise. She embarrassingly couldn’t handle more than a minute of Evie crying before taking the mask off.

Karlie supposed Taylor’s ruthlessness came from that paralyzing, animalistic fear weeks earlier - realizing that they could lose Evie in the span of a few hours. 

Damn her tears, Taylor couldn’t lose another child. 

The stitches and chest tube are removed back in the ICU wing with Dr. Kepari. Karlie lays down on an exam table, Evie on her chest. Taylor tries her best to distract the wailing toddler while Dr. Kepari frantically (and delicately!) pulled out the drainage tube. Thankfully, the stitches came out without much fuss. 

After that, it was a visit to the ENT wing. Dr. Williams, a lovely female surgeon with dark hair and thick glasses, tried her best to examine Evie’s larynx. She then decided whether a new stint needed to be placed to aid Evie’s breathing. That was the hardest for Taylor to watch, she knew all too well how painful and frightening ENT exams were. 

“Look at Mama, Ev,” Taylor soothed as Evie whined, pushing away foreign hands in latex gloves. “Look at me. I _know_ , my love.” She winced as Evie started to cry. “Be a brave girl for me, sweetheart. You can do this.”

Karlie, meanwhile, tried her best to hold the toddler still while Dr. Williams pushed a mirror to the back of Evie’s throat. 

Luckily, Evie’s airways looked clear. She didn’t need a new stint. Even still, both Karlie and Taylor were bleary-eyed walking out of the hospital with their little girl, who had already forgotten about the whole ordeal. 

But with life returning to normal and Evie far more capable of being parented by just Karlie or Taylor, it was evident that this arrangement couldn’t last much longer. 

“I’ll stop by every few days during your week.”  
  
“I’ll do the same for yours.” 

So they stand in the doorway, awkwardly, Taylor with a backpack slung over one shoulder and Evie’s car seat hanging from her arm by the handle. 

“Have a good thanksgiving,” Taylor smiles at Karlie. “I’ll send over mashed potatoes.”  
  
“I can only offer pastries. You know I don’t cook anything savory.”  
  
“Not well, at least.”  
  
Karlie laughs, and Taylor smiles as she does. 

“This was nice,” Taylor says, holding Karlie’s gaze for a moment. “The circumstances were awful, but family brings us together. I needed that reminder.” 

Karlie stares at the gold necklace settled in the folds of Taylor’s jumper. It shines back at her. 

“Me too.” 

“After the holiday I think we need to… talk.”  
  
Karlie’s smile fades. She crosses her arms, nodding.

“We do. I’m not quite sure how we’re meant to figure this out, but-”  


“We will,” Taylor says fiercely. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.”  
  
Karlie realizes that Taylor had said the exact thing to her almost seven years ago. On the scariest day of her life, Taylor had held Karlie in her arms and told her they would figure it out. When the two of them were huddled together in the back of that car, struggling to even their breathing and soldier on, all the while completely terrified. 

“The world thought we were friends before we were lovers,” Taylor adds quietly. “I think we can do that for real this time, and give ourselves time. Real time.”

And Karlie nods, knowing that Taylor is right. But watching her drive away isn’t any less painful. 

… 

_December_

The invitation is beautifully designed and handwritten in gold ink, framed by a stationary border of burgundy flowers. 

_A Belated Christmas Birthday Bash!_

_Friday, December 17th, 2026_

_7pm-12am_

_Shoreditch Venues, East London_

_Martha Hunt kindly requests your RSVP by the 12th of December_

Karlie smiles at the cheerful Santa sketch at the bottom, scattering artfully drawn snowflakes across the paper. She checks her calendar and sends a quick message to Martha.

_RSVP’ing like a dutiful friend. Can’t wait to celebrate with you! - K_

_…_

“Taylor…”  
  
“I’m coming,” Taylor promises. “Five minutes.”  
  
“What are you looking at?”  
  
“An invitation,” Taylor scanned the paper a final time. “Martha’s throwing a birthday party next Friday.”  
  
“That’s nice.”  
  
Taylor nods, and then looking up tentatively at Katja, says-

“You should come with me.”  


Katja purses her lips. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”  


It wasn’t. Social gatherings after the fight to end all fights was not a good idea in the slightest, but Taylor still felt so guilty for yelling those things at her. She’ll never forgive herself for her temper, for spiraling out of control in any situation that frightened her. 

“Think about it.”  
  
Her girlfriend nods, her eyes warm with a smile. 

“Now come to bed. I’m exhausted.”  
  
So the two of them head upstairs. Craving comfort and routine, Taylor lets Katja make love to her.

She pretends that Katja’s hands are someone else’s entirely. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey you!
> 
> Thanks for reading my story, you're the best! 
> 
> Please comment below and let me know what you thought :)
> 
> \- J xx


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies!
> 
> Hope everyone has had a great start to their Friday. Here's the big one - enjoy. 
> 
> \- J xx

_ Then  _

“You’re mad at me,” Says Karlie. 

They’re driving to lunch to catch up. It had been Harry’s idea, but the tension between both of them is wound so tight, Karlie isn’t sure if addressing it is even the right idea. 

“Are you on her side?” 

Harry lets out a laugh that’s a little too sharp, and tightens his grip on the steering wheel. He’s staring straight ahead, refusing to make eye contact.

“Harry.”

“I’m not fond of your decision, love,” He says shortly. “S’ for sure.” 

Him and the rest of the world. 

“It had to happen,” Karlie says quietly.

Harry sets his jaw, processing that.

“Did she cheat?”

“Of course not,” She scoffs. 

Harry cuts her a glance through the rearview mirror, his eyes softening.

“Did you?”  
  
“ _Harry_ ,”

“We all make mistakes, pet. You wouldn’t be the first.”

Karlie can’t believe they’re actually discussing this.

“No,” She says hotly. “I didn’t cheat on Taylor.”

“Then you’ll excuse me, an’ the rest o’ the world, for wondering how the  _ perfect _ couple decided to end things.” 

It stings. Karlie knows she can’t blame him, can’t assuage the fear he likely now feels. The possibility of heartbreak - even in the most perfect relationship, even in the midst of the most passionate love - is no longer just a possibility. He’s seen Karlie and Taylor in love, and suddenly fall out of it. He’s  _ scared _ .

To Karlie’s surprise, the question brings tears to her eyes. She looks sharply to the window, stammering out that she didn’t want to talk anymore.

…

_ Now  _

“It’s going to be fine, love.” 

Taylor looks up from the mirror, red lipstick in hand, and tries to nod. 

Katja is sitting cross-legged on their bed, head tilted to one side as she studies her girlfriend. There’s an air of nervousness. The tension is wound a little too tight. She longs to unwind it, wants to take ahold of Taylor and kiss away her fears, but she can’t. She couldn’t bear Taylor pulling away from her. 

“I’m just nervous.” 

Taylor would be lying if the prospect of this party didn’t terrify her. Katja was drowning in production work, and Abigail wasn’t in town. Taylor is going alone. To support Martha on her birthday, but also to prove to herself that anxiety shouldn’t dictate what she could and couldn’t do. 

She hadn’t been at such a public party venue in years. There would be photographers. Taylor still feels that irrational yet crippling fear each time she sees someone with a camera, despite how much she tries to push past it. 

That’s what happens when you’re catapulted into stardom at sixteen and don’t have a semblance of normalcy or privacy for the next eighteen years - you develop hard triggers. Camera flashes were one the many Taylor had. 

“Brandon will be with you. And Harry and Louis said they’d drop in.”

  
Taylor’s eyes flash in annoyance. “I know that-”  
  


“He’s not going to let anything bad happen,” Katja continues calmly. “You can leave if it gets too much. Martha will understand.” 

Taylor hangs her head, setting the lipstick on the vanity counter. It sits in front of Katja’s perfume and Taylor’s jewelry dish, holding every ring and necklace she wears daily. Except the necklace always underneath her clothing, one that Katja has not seen. 

“It’s just frustrating.”  
  
“I know it is.”  
  
“I feel like I let everyone down.”  
  
Katja sits up a little straighter. She stares Taylor down, hard.

“You let yourself down, Taylor. We all love you for who you are.”   
  
Taylor looks at her reflection in the mirror, and tries a smile. It doesn’t look real. 

“So I’ve been told.” 

…

The venue is loud, crowded, and as Taylor expected, filled with drunk party guests. 

Getting in had been less stressful than she’d anticipated. Brandon could be quite persuasive when he felt like it, so no photos were taken of Taylor or him as they darted in through the back entrance. 

Fairy lights are strung up in the rafters, casting a soft, golden glow over the venue that was oddly comforting. A line of long, linen-covered tables cuts down the middle of the dancefloor. Crystal bowls filled with purple orchids sit on top - Martha’s favorite. 

Speaking of, Taylor spots Martha towards the back. She’s beaming, wearing a beautiful midnight blue gown and surrounded by some friends. Her boyfriend Evan is just off to the side, smiling fondly at Martha. It made Taylor smile, watching him as he watched the woman he loved. She wondered, briefly, if Katja looked at her like that. The thought makes her slightly nauseous. 

_ Trying to find a part of me that you didn’t touch…  _

Brandon’s hand on her shoulder breaks her focus. 

“Do you want me to stay?”

He meant next to her, of course. He’d be close by otherwise, close enough to intervene if anything happened, as things often did when Taylor Swift was in the presence of drunk party guests.   
  
“I’ll be okay, thanks,” Taylor smiled at him. “I’m going to say hi to Martha. You’ll know if anything changes.” 

Brandon nods, melting seamlessly into the crowd.  _ So stoic.  _ Taylor would never fully understand him, but perhaps things were better that way. 

She picks up the hem of her dress and starts to make her way carefully down the stairs. In a far off corner, Taylor spots Harry and Louis in the midst of what seemed to be an intense argument. Her heart twists. 

But then Martha catches her eye from across the room, raises a hand, and smiles. Taylor grins back at her. 

_ Breathe.  _

_ …  _

Karlie can’t remember the last time she was at a party this big. Years ago, she could count on two hands the amount she’d been to in the last week. 

God, she’d been so exhausted then. Between bottle-feeding Evie, opening a Kode For Klossy headquarters in London, filming yet another season of project runway, and trying to salvage what was left of her relationship was Taylor, Karlie is surprised she can ever  _ remember _ a few years back. 

After a while, it all blurred together. Not this year, though. This year was sharp. Crystal clear in her mind, the good and the bad alike. 

It took every ounce of her being to leave the kids were her mother for the night, promising that she’d be back long before midnight. Walking out the door proved harder than anything they’d dealt with in the last months, because Evie cried as she did. 

Karlie wasn’t all that fond of parties anymore, if she’s being honest. 

Yet, here she stands, nursing a whiskey sour to calm her nerves, because this was  _ daunting _ now. She can’t remember the last time she thought a birthday party was daunting, though it was probably sometime during middle school. 

But then, turning to compliment Martha on her dress, Karlie sees her. 

_ No. _

She’s standing alone, looking slightly terrified in a red dress, with red lips, and red nails. Her golden hair is curled. Her bangs, that otherwise would have hidden her blue eyes, are pinned up, twisting back into a braided bun at the nape of her neck. 

_ Oh god, I’m clean out of air in my lungs _

_ It’s all gone, played it so nonchalant  _

_ It’s time we danced with the truth  _

Karlie stares at Taylor for a moment, taking her in, memorizing every detail. She’s always been beautiful, but something about the way the light catches her skin in this half-second is unforgettable. 

She’s glowing. Karlie can’t take her eyes off her. 

Taylor’s mouth falls open in shock as they lock eyes, a frenetic, magnetizing energy buzzing between them. 

Silently, Karlie tries to work it out in her head. They should’ve known, of course. Common friends meant common places and common attendees. Common  _ coincidences _ . 

Like two girls at the same party with the same thoughts circulating two vastly different brains. 

_ Even in my worst times, you saw the best in me. _

Karlie crosses the dance floor, side-stepping drunk guests and the occasional server balancing champagne glasses on a tray. Taylor doesn’t move, watching her carefully, a half-smile forming. 

Christ, Karlie loved that smile. The endearing, half-hearted, innocent smile that broke into a full-fledged grin with sharp, warbling laughter close on its heels. 

_ Even in my worst lies, you saw the truth in me.  _

“Taylor.”  
  
“Hi there,” Taylor looks up at Karlie, who towers over her in heels. “Where are the kids?”  
  
“With my mom.” 

“Fancy seeing you here.”

“Strange, isn’t it?” Karlie plays along. “Something about a red dress.”

Now that she’s closer, Karlie can see the painstaking details of the fabric. A sash forms a bow at the side of the gown. There are tiny, burgundy and crimson beads sewn onto the fabric, twisting in an intricate pattern until it reaches the foot of the dress. Taylor’s favorite color, and Karlie’s new favorite dress. 

_Say my name and everything just stops_  
  
“Something like that,” Taylor nods. “I’m known for blending in with the crowd.”

Taylor’s pupils are blown, from alcohol or lust, Karlie doesn’t know.   
  
“So I’ve heard.” 

Over Karlie’s shoulder, Taylor sees Brandon’s face harden. She nods at him, offering an encouraging smile.  _ This is okay.  _ He gives an imperceptible nod, and Taylor exhales. 

“I wanted to talk,” Taylor says, clearing her throat, steadying herself. 

“Talk,” Karlie repeats.“Is that what you still want? To talk?”    
  


And for the first time in a long time, Taylor answers truthfully, without regret.

“No.”    
  
If someone had been watching from the balcony, they would’ve seen Karlie tilt her head. Would’ve seen Karlie smiling coquettishly at Taylor, who seemed to flush as red as her dress. And, if they’d watched closely, they would’ve seen Taylor’s hands shaking in anticipation and they moved into the hallway.

_ And my hands shake, I can’t explain this, ah, ah, ah _

Brandon is so focused on the two women moving off the dance floor that he doesn’t notice the photographer unabashedly snapping photos. 

_ Lights flash and we’ll run for the fences  _

….

“Please,” Taylor’s begging, on the verge of hysteria. “Please, Karlie.” 

“Off,” Karlie says harshly. “Now. Take this  _ off _ .” 

Not her proudest moment by any standard, but Taylor is in no position to point fingers. 

_ We play dumb, but we know exactly what we’re doing.  _

Taylor helps Karlie with the sash on her dress, watches as she struggles with the buttons on the back, and rips it open. Karlie freezes. In the wall-to-wall mirrors, Taylor watches Karlie’s green eyes darken behind her. She feels fingers run down her back, tracing a gentle, mesmerizing design. There are four lipstick stains on her, two on her neck, one on her cheek, and one pressed right at the corner of her mouth. Taylor is overcome with a sense of pride to have marked Karlie in that way. That lipstick wasn’t coming off, not anytime soon. 

_ Fuck _ . Taylor inhales deeply, steadying herself. Karlie’s hand stills. 

“What?” Taylor asks her, breathless. “Too scary now?” 

Bold of her to be so derisive in this moment, when they’re teetering on the edge of the cliff. The way Karlie stiffens, well, Taylor knows she’s in trouble now. 

This was wrong. Truly, wholly wrong. They’re drunk. That whiskey sour Karlie had was expensive. If anyone knows what full proof whiskey with an exorbitant price can do, Taylor would. And if she knows Karlie, Taylor knows she drained it in one mouthful to stave off the nerves. 

_ It’s like your eyes are liquor, it’s like your body is gold…  _

It was obvious from across the room - Karlie’s nerves - she didn’t want to be at this party anymore than Taylor did. 

And now they’re paying the price. Now they’re in one of the many private bathrooms in this venue, door locked, half-naked, adrenaline coursing hot and fast in their veins. 

The first time Karlie kissed her, Taylor could taste the whiskey. And she knew, with the remnants of the sweet alcohol on her lips, there was no turning back. 

Each kiss, each touch, it took it away. The pain, the heartache, the earth-shattering grief the two of them have felt for years, it’s washed away with each moment they spend together in this room. 

So wrong. But her heart pounded in anticipation, and Karlie’s eyes flashed with such nonchalance as she locked the door. This wasn’t a decision. It was necessary, it breathed  _ life _ back into them. They needed this. 

It’s nothing like the intimate, slow-building sex they used to have with the lights down low. In the bedroom, a playlist weaving soft musical notes into the background, still dark as dawn approached. 

No, this is fast, fierce, and unforgiving. It’s criminal. Taylor’s head falls back hard against the tile, expression contorting in such intense pleasure it’s nearly painful. Her reflection stares back at her from across the room, breathless and flushed. Her hair has come undone, it hangs in loose curls at her shoulders, and Taylor grins. She recognizes that girl. 

“Good?” Karlie murmurs against her neck, pulsing her fingers faster and harder. “Does it feel good? Talk to me, love.”   
  
But Taylor can barely see straight, her eyes half-closed, fingers locked tight around Karlie’s wrist - the same hand inside of her - urging her on. She manages a nod, whimpering. 

“Does anyone else do it like this?” Karlie prompts her. “Hmm?” She hooks a finger under Taylor’s chin with her free hand, forcing her to look up at her. Taylor does, dazed. “Or am I the only one?”

It’s as if no time has passed at all. Is as if they’re back in New York. As if Taylor had walked into the study, climbed on top of Karlie’s lap, and demanded a distraction.

And Karlie  _ delivered _ . 

She knows exactly what to say, where to touch, and how to encourage Taylor. She knows Taylor better than Taylor knows herself in some moments, and this was one of those moments. 

  
“ _You-_ ” Taylor’s fighting hard against her release, wanting to hold it off for as long as possible. She has to savor this moment. Her grip on Karlie’s shoulder tightens as the corners of her vision start to blur. Taylor closes her eyes, head spinning. 

“Can’t hear you, love.”

“You’re the one,  _ fuck _ , I swear. The only one.  _ Karlie _ !”

“I’ve got you,” Karlie promises, grabbing ahold of Taylor’s leg and hitching it up to her waist. Taylor gasps, arching her back at the new position. “Keep breathing, okay? It’s alright, baby. I’ll get you there.” 

“When we were in London,” Taylor says in between gasps. “Staying with Harry and Louis, and you dragged me - _Karlie!_ \- dragged me out onto the doorstep at two am, that’s when I knew I wanted to marry you. I k-knew then,” Taylor lets out another whimper. “It was real.”  
  
“But I beat you to it,” Karlie laughs, leaning down to kiss Taylor’s hairline. “You’ve got Harry to thank for that. C’mon, sweetheart. Let go.”

And she does. Taylor has no doubts, or course. She’s reduced to a babbling mess. When her vision returns, she leans forward to wrap her arms fully around Karlie’s neck and presses her face into her chest, panting.

“ _ There _ it is.” Karlie grins, tucking a loose curl behind Taylor’s ear. She presses a kiss to her bare, sweaty shoulder. “Good girl.” 

A minute passes. Taylor tilts her head up, requesting a kiss, which Karlie quickly grants. 

But then, loosening her grip - 

“I want-” Taylor can’t catch her breath, and Karlie pulls them upright so she can get some air. “I want you, want-” She swallows, chest heaving. “Want us again.” 

Karlie falters. She looks down at Taylor, sweeps her bangs away from her face, and runs her thumb under Taylor’s eye, collecting the tears that had brimmed moments earlier. 

“Do you mean that?”

It’s a loaded question, Taylor knows. It means so much more, it means  _ will you push me away again? Will you watch as I leave? Will you not run after me? _

“I do.” 

“Then we can try again,” Karlie says quietly, leaning in to kiss Taylor, soft and sweet. “We will.”

…

  
  


_ Ten Hours Later  _

God, she’d been so drunk. The regret is rising, coloring cheeks, boiling blood.

A voice,  _ I’ll call tomorrow morning.  _ A familiar voice, saying,  _ listen to me, Karlie, we’ll figure it out tomorrow.  _

Karlie doesn’t know how to figure out what she can’t remember. She’s drifting somewhere in outer space in her drunken stupor, unable to even reconcile a name.

Her phone rings then, like a gunshot through the silence. Karlie does not flinch. She lunges for it, unlocking the screen in one fluid motion.

“...Karlie?”

  
“Taylor,” Karlie says thickly through building tears. Her head is aching from the alcohol, her temples thrumming. “Taylor, what did we _do_?”

… 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Every comment, like, and read means so much to me. Please don't hesitate to let me know what you thought. Writers thrive off of feedback!
> 
> Thanks again,
> 
> \- J xx


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello!
> 
> Hope everybody is having a good Friday. It is POURING RAIN in my hometown and traffic is ridiculous, so hopefully the weather is better wherever you guys are! 
> 
> Happy reading :)
> 
> \- J xx

Same team.

A terse, critical reminder. Taylor had nearly forgotten. 

That’s what they’d used it for, back in those days, a reminder. To slow down, catch your breath, remember the reason the two of them were even standing here, still together. 

A warning. 

Karlie’s voice, sharp and succinct in the middle of a fight. 

“Same team!”

A quiet thought.   
  


“We’re in it together, you and I. Same team.”

“We are,” Karlie murmured, sliding her fingers through Taylor’s. “Always.”   
  
Always. 

So why was it like ice water in her veins, hearing Karlie remind her? 

“Do you?” Karlie’s voice, so small on the other line. “Remember?”

Her head throbbing, vision bleary.

“I’m starting to.” 

And then, hesitantly -

“Same team, right?”    
  
Taylor closed her eyes, leaned back against the headboard, and was transported to another, much simpler time.

“Same team.” __   
_   
_ __ Always. 

…

Karlie is certain she’s never seen her mother look more disappointed. 

Last night, or rather early morning, when she’d unlocked the front door and slid into the morning light just as it streamed through the curtains, she found Tracy Kloss sitting at the coffee table. 

“Karlie.”   
  
A lamentation.  _ Karlie _ . Karlie, what have you done  _ now _ ? 

Karlie looks at her, with her temples and body aching, and deflates. 

“I’m sorry, Mom.” 

“Yes, well, you will be,” Tracy says stiffly. “When she breaks your heart again.”    
  
Karlie pockets her keys, suddenly unable to look up at her mother. In the early morning light, it’s as though all her flaws are on full display. She’s been ripped open. She’s naked, at the mercy of the one woman she could never please. 

“Are the kids…?”  
  
“Sleeping. I’ll turn in too, now that I know you’re alright.”  
  
“Mom, I didn’t mean to put you in this position-”  
  
“Wipe off that lipstick,” Her mother cut across her sharply, and Karlie reared back, stunned. “It’s all over your neck. I don’t want your children seeing you like that.” 

Karlie turns to the hall mirror, sees the crimson stains lining her neck and collarbone. 

Strange. A year earlier, it had been another woman’s work. Now it was Taylor’s. Karlie knows she shouldn’t, not given the circumstances, but she smiles at her reflection. 

… 

“What’s the matter, my love? You’re so quiet.”   
  


Taylor looks up from her cup of coffee at Katja, who has come back into the kitchen, peering at her. 

Days, months, years, Taylor has been waiting for the  _ second _ chance, the  _ right _ choice, the  _ worthy _ person to fall in love with.

And now that it’s in front of her, with open arms and ears, all Taylor feels is disgust.

She’s disgusted by the loss of the love she pushed away, and grieves the woman who waited for her only to be shut out. She mourns the time with her family she could’ve had, if only she’d pushed farther, fought harder. 

_ Two headlights shine through the sleepless night, and I will get you, I’ll get you alone  _

Taylor knows. A rare, fierce, unshakeable energy washes over her in the haze of the early morning, and Taylor knows what she has to do. 

_ Your name has echoed through my mind, and I just think you should, think you should know  _

“This isn’t working anymore.” 

Katja’s expression shatters. She pales, going very still. Just like that, she understands. It’s written all over her face, and Taylor stares back at her calmly. What else can she do? 

A pause. Katja slowly, silently, moves to sit in front of Taylor at the coffee table. In the early morning light, with her red hair falling in soft curls over her shoulders, Katja looks about ten years younger.

She looks scared. 

“Something happened last night.”   
  


Not even a question. A statement, awaiting confirmation. Although Taylor never loved Katja, she feels oddly heartbroken as she tells her the truth. 

To watch Katja react is to burn down the house they’d built together, obliterate the relationship that had endured the worst of the worst over the past year and four months. 

Taylor spares no detail. She offers up every mistake made, every warning ignored, even tells her that pictures could very well be published.

“I should’ve known,” Katja says numbly, though her eyes are bright with anger. “I should’ve fucking known.” 

“I’m sorry,” Taylor says hollowly, and if she felt truly sorry, she may have hung her head. She may have felt embarrassed, but she doesn’t. “I don’t deserve you.”  
  
“No.” Katja said icily. “No, you don’t.” 

A half hour later, Taylor watches her car drive away. 

Oddly, she sees herself in Katja. She sees a version of herself nine years younger. Frantic and heartbroken, just twenty-three years old, a wisp of a songwriter packing up her things and begging her friend Jack to just  _ drive _ , as though meandering through the streets of Nashville would ease her heartache. 

Taylor knows Katja will hurt for a very, very long time. 

But she also knows that often, the best comes from the worst, and you might just bump into a sunshine girl when you’d least expect it. 

_ And now I see daylight, I only see daylight  _

… 

An hour later, Taylor stood on Karlie’s doorstep, hesitant. Green looking into blue, the past year and half swirling between them, an air of desperation. Hopelessly, utterly, smitten. Karlie reaches across the threshold, pulls Taylor in, and closes the door behind them. They stand in the entryway with their arms wrapped around each other, swaying slightly,  _ beaming _ , for what seems like hours. 

_ Home. Finally.  _

A bleak, unforgiving winter. 

Thick powder covers Karlie’s yard, lines the frozen flower boxes, seeps through the fences. Frost coats the window panes. The roads have been shut down, too icy to attempt driving on. Yet, Taylor and her are grinning. They stand, cheeks flushed and fingers numb, at the top of the hill. 

Evie and Noah are just down below, bundled in their warmest clothes and looking slightly ridiculous, but nevertheless shrieking in excitement as they hurl snow back and forth at each other.

“A year ago, I stood right here and realized I was still in love with you.” 

Taylor looks up at her, blonde curls whipping in the wind, smiling. 

“And I’d like to think if we give it our best,” Karlie continues. “This will work.”  
  
“It will.” Taylor agrees softly, wrapping her arm through Karlie’s. She presses her cold cheek against the other woman’s shoulder and closes her eyes, memorizing this moment. Karlie still smells the same, jasmine and almond oil, like her perfume. “Same team.”  
  


“She’s gone?”   
  


Katja. 

  
“She left this morning.” Taylor doesn’t lift her head, eyes still closed. “I told her everything.”  
  


“For children are innocent and love justice, while most of us are wicked and naturally prefer mercy.”  
  
“G. K. Chesterton,” Taylor snorts. “Karlie, you _have_ to stop re-reading The Everlasting Man.” 

“It’s good!” 

“If it makes you happy, it makes me happy.”

Karlie wraps her arms around Taylor, shielding her from the wind. She leans down to press a kiss to her hairline, and Taylor giggles. 

“Will you stay tonight?”   
  
Taylor sounds amused, as though she hadn’t already planned to. 

“Yes.” 

Karlie looks away, unable to hold back her smile. She watches their children, still in the midst of a snowball fight. Taylor untangles herself to stand on her tiptoes, and kisses Karlie the way she’s wanted to for over a year now: fiercely. 

Down the hill, Noah drops his snowball, mouth falling open in shock and delight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point I feel like you guys know that I love reading comments/feedback, so feel free to comment anything below. Or don't. I won't tell you want to do :P
> 
> \- J xx


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Saturday! 
> 
> Hope everyone is having a great weekend so far. It's finally getting cold in my hometown and I am so excited. 
> 
> Happy reading. This chapter makes me feel very warm and fuzzy inside :)
> 
> \- J xx

It is still dark outside when Karlie wakes to an empty bed.

She stretches her fingers out, groggily, and is met with cold sheets. She exhales, thinking back to last night. 

Taylor was still having nightmares. 

A particularly nasty one had her gasping, calling out  _ Katja’s _ name, but nevertheless Karlie held Taylor in her arms until her tears slowed. Strange, to have Taylor in her arms.  _ Her _ arms, not someone else’s. Strange, to comfort her. To feel her, warm and real, smell her shampoo, taste her lips. Anything but a dream. 

_ This is the golden age of something good and right and real…  _

How different things were a year ago. 

…

Karlie rises. She pulls on the sweater she’d given to Taylor at half-two because she’d been shivering, now on the floor. 

The light is on in her study, flickering gently through the frosted glass door. Karlie pauses, because that’s Taylor’s voice. 

And she’s singing.  _ Oh _ . Karlie hasn’t heard her sing in years. 

_ Oh, darling, don’t you ever grow up, don’t you ever grow up, just stay this little _

_ Oh, darling, don’t you ever grow up, don’t you ever grow up, it could stay this simple  _

Quietly, Karlie turns the handle. She sees Evie in Taylor lap, hiding her face in her mother’s neck, swaying gently as Taylor rocks her. The melody is high and sweet and it clearly soothes Evie, who is shaking slightly. 

The two of them sit on the couch in Karlie’s office, bundled under woolen blankets. Karlie spots Ellie, the plush elephant toy Evie refused to let her wash. It was well-worn and loved, one of its button eyes coming loose from its stitching. 

Taylor stops singing. She looks up at Karlie, her eyes still swollen with sleep, and smiles. 

“Don’t stop,” Karlie pleads quietly. “Keep singing.” 

Taylor ducks her head, embarrassed, but continues to sing. 

_ Won’t let nobody hurt you, won’t let no one break your heart _

_ Yeah, no one will desert you, just try to never grow up _

_ Never grow up  _

When she finishes, Evie is half asleep. 

“Beautiful,” Karlie tells her. “I love that song.”  
  
“Thank you,” Taylor says, beaming.   
  


To see Taylor and their daughter together so easily, not contrived, not scheduled out for Sunday morning handed over in tense, terse movements, is heartwarming. Karlie missed it. 

Taylor reaches a hand up, still holding Evie with her other one. 

“Come here. Sit with us.” 

_ Us.  _

Quietly, Karlie crawls onto the couch and pulls the woolen blankets over them. Evie rolls over, groggily pressing her little hand to Karlie’s chest. Karlie thinks back to two months ago, to the hospital room, and exhales, shakily. 

_ Thank god for this. Thank God for their little girl.  _

“Morning,” Taylor says, and tilts her head up to kiss Karlie.   
  
“Morning,” Says Karlie, returning the kiss. Taylor tastes of mint and the honey lip salve she uses each morning. 

Life was more than simple sentences. It was the spaces in between, too. Karlie wanted to live in these spaces - moments in the early morning, tinged with the light of dawn seeping through window shutters - for the rest of time.

_ Barefoot in the kitchen, sacred new beginnings that became my religion,  _

_ Listen..  _

… 

It isn’t until much later, when the kids have been dropped off at Harry and Louis’ house (they offered), that the two women are well and truly alone since the party. They stand awkwardly in front of each other in the kitchen, unsure of what to say or how to start a conversation they’d put off for more than two years now. 

“So.” Taylor says.

“So.” Karlie answers. 

Taylor fiddles with the cuff of her sweater, bunching the material nervously around her wrist. 

“We need to talk.”

“Coffee first, though.” 

  
  
“God, yes.” Taylor deflates, relieved. “Strong coffee.” 

Karlie busies herself with brewing a fresh pot, until the bitter aroma fills the quiet kitchen. Almost immediately, tiny, cold fingers find her shoulders, and Karlie smiles as Taylor stands on her tiptoes to press a kiss on the cheek. 

“You’re quite needy this morning,” She laughs. “I like it.”

  
  
“I’m making up for the last two years.”

Karlie turns around, takes Taylor’s hands in her own, and presses a kiss to the palm of each one.

“We have so much time, my love. Don’t worry.”

  
  
The look of absolute adoration on Taylor’s face promises Karlie she won’t. 

…. 

They’re deep in conversation a half hour later on the couch, two mugs and a pot of coffee on the console table beside them. 

“What we want can’t overshadow reason. The fact is we still parent two children, and they deserve time to adjust. It’s too big a jump to go from zero to one hundred, especially right now, after what happened with Evie.” 

  
  
“I agree.” Karlie says. “That would be too irresponsible.”

  
  
“I know that Noah vaguely remembers us together,” Taylor says, wrapping her fingers around the hot ceramic of her coffee mug. “But Evie doesn’t. I don’t want to confuse her. Especially if…” She trails off, unable to hide the dread in her tone. 

“Don’t.” Karlie frowns at Taylor. “It won’t.  _ We _ won’t.”

  
  
“We didn’t think it would fall apart last time,” Taylor points out. “And look what happened.” 

“What happened was the both of us were miserable for over two years, we tried to work it out alone and failed, turned to two different people that didn’t make us happy at all, and now we’re here.” Karlie says sharply. “Again. And I’m sure as hell willing to fight for us if you are.”

  
  
“I am,” Taylor says, her eyes filling with hurt. “Of course I am.”

“Then we don’t need to think that way, do we?” Karlie says quietly. “It’s okay to be scared, love. We’re doing this for us, no one else.” 

Taylor takes a sip of coffee, pondering this. She looks down at her naked hand, wondering if she’d ever wear that gorgeous ring again. The thought prompts her next question. 

“If we aren’t married, but we aren’t dating… what are we?”

  
  
Karlie is silent for a moment. 

“We’re… partners.” She decides. “Partners giving it another try.”

Taylor exhales, relaxing a little. 

“I think we start slow. Every week, you or I will stay for the weekend. We’ll tell the kids we want to spend more time as a family together.”

  
  
“We can build from there.” Karlie agrees. “Over a few months. That sounds good.” 

  
  
“And start adding a few more days as the month goes,” Taylor nods. “I’m free Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. That could work.”

  
  
“Okay. I’ll call Penni. I can schedule shoots and meetings around those days.”

“Is there anything else?”

  
  
“I want a few nights a month,” Karlie says. “Just the two of us. The kids can go with Martha or Jourdan or Ashley, they wouldn’t mind.”

  
  
Taylor smirks. “The things we do for sex.”

  
  
“Not just sex,” Karlie argues quietly. “I want to spend time with you, alone. We’ve missed so many moments like those.” 

“We have.” Taylor takes a sip of her coffee, thinking back to how lonely she’d been for the past six months. She brushes it aside, trying to stay focused. “Okay. Some nights just for us.”

  
  
“But after we’ve done that for a few months I don’t want anymore switching around.”

  
  
“Yes, we need to pick a house.”   
  


And pack up their life, move, and start over again with the kids. 

  
“Yours.” Karlie says immediately. “I can work from anywhere. You need a studio.”

  
  
Taylor shakes her head, smiling at Karlie. 

“So selfless. Even now.”

  
  
“Even now?” Karlie laughs. “I’m not _that_ senile, Taylor. It’s only been a few years.”

  
  
Taylor barks out a laugh, full-bodied and real, one Karlie hasn’t heard in a long time. It makes her grin. Hard. 

“The day will come.”

  
  
“Luckily I’ll have you around to nurse me.”

  
  
Taylor’s laughter dies off, and she studies Karlie, suddenly serious. Karlie looks back at her, curious, raising the mug to her lips.

“What?” She asks, taking a sip. 

“You really believe that, don’t you? That this will work?”

Karlie raises an eyebrow. She puts down her mug. 

“Come here.”   


  
Sheepishly, Taylor crawls into Karlie’s lap. Karlie wraps her arms around the woman she loves, looks hard at her, and says - 

  
  
“I believe in _you_ , Taylor Swift. I don’t need anything else. Just you.” 

And Taylor’s eyes well up with happy tears, and she leans into Karlie embrace, murmuring a fervent  _ thank you _ in her ear. 

The moments in between the lines, Karlie realizes, are the ones that matter the most. 

… 

Hours later. Sunset. 

Taylor and Karlie cook together, sifting through the contents of the fridge and pantry until they’ve assembled ingredients for fruit cobbler and grilled cheese sandwiches - their former favorite and unusual meal. 

It’s a quiet, tense dinner, with not so much as a shared glance the whole meal. Halfway through dessert, Taylor stands. 

“I want you.”

  
  
Karlie looks up, swallows, unable to stop the amused grin spreading across her face. 

“Now?”   


  
Taylor’s eyes are almost completely dark as she nods emphatically.

“Now.” 

…

Frantic, fervent, like worshipping on your knees. Like a freefall, fearless. Like wading waist deep into the cold, wild ocean.

Taylor knows this woman better than she knows herself, and she thinks she’s prepared for what’s about to happen.

She isn’t. 

Sitting on the bed. Karlie on the ground, facing her. Karlie’s fingers are skilled, and they unbutton Taylor’s top is seconds, pulling it off her and tossing it to the ground. Next, her jeans. Before Karlie can pop the button, the word flies out of Taylor’s mouth -

“Wait!” 

Too much. All of a sudden, Taylor’s overwhelmed, slightly dizzy, unsure of what to do. Because now it’s happening - for  _ real _ \- and her eyes are wide and surprised and a little scared. 

Karlie’s fingers freeze. She looks up, cautiously.

“Taylor?”

“We haven’t done this since the party.”

  
  
Karlie lowers her hands. Sits back on her heels. Studies the woman above her, trying to understand the fear in her eyes.

“No, we haven’t.”

  
  
“And things were… different last time.”

  
  
“They were.” Karlie agrees.

  
“The last time you saw me naked you were…” Taylor finally blurts it out. “Drunk!”

Karlie’s eyes widen. She’s stunned. She wasn’t expecting this at all. 

“And I just… don’t look the same way I did two years ago,” Taylor finishes lamely, hanging her head. “That’s all.”    


“Taylor Allison Swift.”

“Karlie,” Taylor whimpers. “Don’t.”    
  


Karlie’s rises up on her knees, taking ahold of Taylor’s hips. 

“If you’re suggesting you look anything less than perfect and strong and  _ worthy _ ,” Karlie continues, pushing gently so that Taylor’s falls back onto the bed. “You have truly lost your mind.”   
  


Taylor should feel vulnerable in this moment. She should feel utterly small. She’s topless, laying on her back, exposed. All she feels is safe. All she feels is loved. It’s like learning to breathe again. 

“...Really?”

  
  
“Drunk or not, I am still madly in love with you.” Karlie says quietly, getting to her feet and climbing onto the bed. She traces the outline of Taylor’s body through her clothes. “I fell in love with you, and your smile, and your voice, and your intelligence, and _then_ your body. You are more than what you look like, don’t you _ever_ forget that.” 

Taylor nods, lip quivering. 

“Okay.” 

“Sweetheart,” Karlie leans over her, propping herself up on her elbows. Taylor can hear her pulse thrumming in her temples. Karlie pushes fringe out of Taylor’s eyes, looking straight into the deep blue. “Do you still want to do this? We can stop right now. I understand, it’s a lot.” 

  
  
“No!” Taylor is suddenly desperate, suddenly frantic. “I want this. I want you.” 

God, she does. It’s slightly terrifying, but she does. 

  
  
Karlie presses her forehead against Taylor’s, breathing hard, overcome with want. 

“What can I do to make this easier for you, my love? Tell me.”

Taylor’s trembling fingers find Karlie’s back. 

“Just… slow? Go slow? It’s too much if it’s fast. Just right now, at least.”

“I can do that,” Karlie says quietly. “I can do that, darling. Tell me if you change your mind.”

  
“Yes,” Taylor says breathlessly. “Yes, I will.

  
  
But she doesn’t. It’s exactly as it’s meant to be, the both of them, bodies in complete sync as night falls. Halfway through, in the mess of tongues and lips and shaking limbs, Taylor starts to cry. Karlie pulls back, horrified at first, only to realize they are tears of pleasure.

She looks up from between Taylor’s legs, in complete awe. 

“Missed you,” Taylor chokes out, tears running down her cheeks as her lips split into a cracked smile. “Missed you  _ so _ much, Karlie.  _ So _ much.” 

“My sweet, wonderful, beautiful girl,” Karlie pulls herself up, swinging her leg over to mount Taylor. She leans over Taylor, pressing butterfly kisses to her lips, nose, and forehead. “I missed  _ you _ .”

  
  
_ You’re my, my, my, my… lover.  _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaanndd comment below if you liked anything about this chapter! 
> 
> Love you guys,
> 
> \- J xx


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooo lovelies!
> 
> I hope everyone is enjoying the beautiful fall weather (while it still lasts).
> 
> Another chapter, as promised. Enjoy!
> 
> \- J xx

When Taylor wakes, Karlie is sitting on her knees at the edge of the bed wearing only a t-shirt. She studies her, cheeks flushed, lip caught between her teeth in thought.

“Are you sore?” 

Taylor looks up, bleary-eyed at her partner. _Partner_. Taylor wanted to say that word for the rest of her life. _Her_ partner. 

“What?” 

“Sore, love,” Karlie says patiently. “Are you sore?”

“From…?”

“Last night.”

Taylor blushes deeply as she understands. “No.” 

Karlie relishes that blush every time. There was nothing more endearing, more adorable than the fact Taylor blushed about things like this. 

“Good,” Karlie says with a grin, and lays on her stomach between Taylor’s legs. She reaches for the buttons of Taylor’s pajama shorts, quick fingers already pulling them apart. “Because you’re gonna be.” 

Taylor settles back onto the sheets and closes her eyes, melting into Karlie's touch. Oh, how she has missed this. 

_ It’s you and me, there’s nothing like this  _

_ Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince  _

…

They take things slow, as promised. It’s a step by step, sometimes one step forward and two steps back kind of process, but they remain patient. They push through, all the while reminded of the reason why they want this, why they  _ need _ it more than anything else. The heartbreaking reminder of what they’d lost, what they could’ve had for upwards of two years, propels them forward.

_ Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes _

_ What doesn’t kill me makes me want you more _

At first, nothing seems to be the matter. Noah was elated to spend more time with both of his mother’s, frequently requesting that both of them read bedtime stories or watch him build lego towers, which they did gladly. They’d sit cross-legged on Karlie’s living room floor, giggling, snapping photos on the special polaroid camera - the only thing that couldn’t be corrupted and released online. It was as if nothing had changed, as if Karlie had never walked out into the cold morning air and never came back. 

Evie, however, was more difficult to adjust to this new arrangement. 

The toddler loved both of her mothers, of course, but she’d also grown accustomed to only be cared for by one of them at a time. For example, Karlie handing her daughter over to Taylor while she was cooking was a no-go. It resulted in tears, and a bewildered Karlie trying to soothe the little girl. 

“Mommy can’t hold you right now, my love, go with Mama.”

  
  
And Evie, with hot tears rolling down her cheeks, would refuse, pushing away Taylor with feeble hands. 

So, yes. It was difficult at first. Karlie credits Taylor for keeping her cool and staying patient. That first weekend was likely a little heartbreaking for her, watching Evie outright refuse her love. It’s not easily done, stepping back to give your own daughter space, not realizing that boundaries had been crossed as her other mother offered comfort. 

“It’s not  _ you _ ,” Karlie stressed, trying to wipe at Evie’s tears with a tissue. The little girl only wailed louder. “It’s that we’re together and it’s usually just me.” 

“It’s fine,” Taylor said, recoiling, though it clearly wasn’t. “It’s okay.” 

And eventually, Evie would tentatively ask for “Mama” at bedtime and Taylor would come into the bedroom, beaming. She’d scoop up the little girl and cuddle her in the rocking chair, singing snippets of a melody Karlie didn’t recognize. 

… 

The weekend was over too fast, and then Karlie and Taylor were standing together at the front door, Taylor with her overnight bag slung across one shoulder, Evie on one hip, Noah dutifully holding Taylor’s hand. 

This routine. So strangely reminiscent of exchanges from what felt like years ago, but had only been months ago. Karlie can hardly believe that six months earlier, the two of them would stand face to face like this, cold and bitter, lashing out in any way they could. 

_ Fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves, chemistry till it blows up, till there’s no us.  _

“Wednesday, then?”

  
  
“Wednesday,” Taylor nods. She looks down at Noah, who was already grinning. “Mommy’s gonna come and visit us, does that sound good? Do you think we should bake cookies again?”

  
  
“Yeah” Noah nods, and leans forward to wrap an arm around Karlie. “Love you, Mommy.”

  
  
“I love you too, little man,” Karlie leans forward to press a loud, smacking kiss on Evie’s cheek, making the little girl giggle. “Be good to Mama, Everly. I love you.”  
  


“Love, love, love,” Evie sang happily, waving her arms about. “Love!” 

But then the door closes and Karlie is truly alone. Strange, how it had never bothered her for years. Day in and day out, she would busy herself with work, with friends, with the kids, never dwelling too long. 

But in this moment the house feels so wide and empty it’s as though she’s been swallowed whole by her loneliness, consumed by the ache she feels so profoundly now in her chest. 

And she swears she’s never cried harder. 

They called in  _ falling _ in love for a reason. No one ever waded into love waist-deep, gingerly, taking every precaution as they assessed the situation. 

No, Karlie’s in the free fall yet again. And though slightly terrified, she feels like she’s flying. 

_ And for once, you let go of your fears and your ghosts, _

_ One step, not much, but it said enough  _

….

_ Tuesday  _

“We’re gonna be  _ late _ , Mama.”

  
  
“I know, my love.” Taylor’s flying around the house, trying to find her scarf, her keys, her left boot. "Give me a second."

It’s 7:30 in the morning and she’s writing down everything she can think of on a list for Martha, who stood in the middle of the kitchen holding Evie, who was still groggy. 

“We’ll be fine, Tay,” Martha says. “I promise. She’s an angel.”

  
  
“Not once she wakes up fully.” 

“Taylor.” Martha says, laughing. “Go. Take him to school. You’ve got work to do.”

  
  
That she did. Demo day was fast approaching, and Jack’s emails were stacking up in her email, unanswered. The truth is, she wanted to re-write half of the songs on the album and had no idea how to tell him. Jack Antonoff was not one for spontaneity, despite his profession and creative nature. 

There was also an email from Katja, though Taylor truly couldn’t bring herself to open it. Not yet.

  
  


“Taylor.” Martha tries again. "You'll be late."

  
  
“I’m going!” She’s rifling through her purse for her gloves, looking down to make sure Noah was wearing his scarf. “Jesus fu-” She falters, looks down at Noah again, catches herself. “Have you seen Brandon?”

  
“I’m right here, Taylor.” 

Taylor looks up, surprised by Brandon’s use of her first name. It wasn’t like him to call her anything other than “Ms. Swift” these days, with somewhat of a bitter emphasis on “Ms.”

She can’t stop the grin spreading across her face. Of course. What had Karlie told him? 

“Perfect. I think we’re ready to go.” 

And then, already pushing her luck, she asks - 

“Can I drive?”

  
  
Taylor can see Martha roll her eyes from across the room. 

“I don’t say why not.” Brandon says, tone neutral. “Let’s head out.” 

Noah isn’t quite sure, but he thinks that his mother is smiling so wide because of something other than the fact she gets to drive the car. 

… 

Later, after Taylor has walked Noah into the Year Two building and said her goodbyes, Taylor and Brandon sit in their usual silence in morning traffic. The ride to the studio is long, even though they probably drive a few miles at most into the city. London traffic, it was monstrous. Taylor looks around at the other drivers and pedestrians unabashedly, the car had tinted windows after all, and starts to reach for her songwriting journal. 

“I hope this isn’t too… forward of me.”

Taylor stops. She looks up, amused, to watch Brandon stumble through his sentence.

“Yes?”

  
  
The tops of Brandon’s ears have suddenly gone very red. He looks straight ahead, refusing to make eye contact, his fingers tight on the steering wheel. 

“I’m just... very happy that things have, erm, worked out. Between you and Ms. Kl- Karlie,” He corrects. 

Taylor could laugh, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t want to embarrass the older man, who had clearly struggled to say such a thing. 

“Thank you, Brandon.” She says softly. “That's very kind. I am too.”

  
  
And then -

“Does this mean you’ll call the both of us by our first names now?” 

“I think so.” He says after a moment, then adding sheepishly, “I tried not to pick sides.”

  
  
Taylor laughs at last, turning to look out the window, at the city teeming with life around them.

“ _ Tried _ being the operative word.” 

And then she picks up her pen, starting to draft out a chorus that had circuited her brain for days now.

_ And baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free, as always, to drop a comment below and let me know what you thought!
> 
> \- J xx


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies!
> 
> My holiday break starts next Friday, so fingers crossed I can start update more frequently. Stay tuned. 
> 
> Love you guys, and happy reading.
> 
> \- J xx

_ Wednesday.  _

Taylor is waiting for the kettle to boil, nursing a sore throat from the studio, when Karlie texts her. 

_ I woke up sick, so I don’t think I’ll be coming over. I don’t want to infect the little ones. Sorry. - K _

Taylor’s heart sinks as she types out a reply. The past two days had been difficult enough without Karlie around, especially when they’d spent every waking moment together during the weekend. 

_ Shit. Do you need anything? _

_ No, I’m just going back to bed. I’ll make some soup later :) Tell the kids I love them.  _

_ I will. Sleep well. <3  _

There is no reply. Taylor sets her phone down. She stands there lost in thought in the middle of the kitchen until the kettle starts to whistle, snapping her out of it. 

“Mama, can I have some tea?”   
  
Taylor looks over at Noah, who was still poking through his oatmeal at the dining table. They had to leave in fifteen minutes but Taylor was feeling significantly less rushed this morning, if a little disappointed by Karlie’s absence. Next to him in her high chair, Evie happily mashes her banana slices into a pulp. 

_ You did this for years, _ Taylor scolds herself silently.  _ You can handle one day alone.  _

“Yeah, baby. Do you want what I have, or something different?” 

“Yours.”   
  
So Taylor pours Noah a cup of steaming Earl Grey, which he takes it eagerly. She gently scolds him for taking big sips because it was  _ hot _ , Noah, and you’ll scald yourself. 

It’s strange how things change. Ten years earlier, if you told Taylor that she would be living in London alone with her two children, she would’ve laughed in your face. 

She would’ve laughed even harder at the thought of being given a second chance. 

“Do you think it’s going to snow today, Mama?”  
  
“I don’t know, buddy,” Taylor tells Noah honestly. She reaches forward to ruffle his hair, making him giggle. “Maybe. Sometimes things happen when we least expect them to, huh?” 

They certainly did. 

… 

Brandon prides himself on anticipating things. He likes to be one, two, or even three steps ahead of everything. It’s his nature to be calculating, his job depends on it. 

But when Taylor asks him to stop at Magnolia’s, Karlie’s favorite bakery and cafe, he is surprised. Still, he deftly makes a u-turn, taking them back out of the city rather than into it.

“Not recording today?” He comments casually. 

Taylor doesn’t look up from her phone, typing furiously.

“No, Karlie isn’t feeling well. I’m going to bring her some food and coffee.”  
  
“Ah.”

They rode in silence for the next ten minutes. Taylor sent out several emails, communicating with agents and managers and Jack (she sheepishly explained herself and promised to update him soon), and Martha, who was with Evie again for the day.

The silent nature of the car ride, though common, prompts Taylor to think through some things. A lot had happened in the past two weeks, and the best way she could process things (aside from songwriting, of course) was to talk through them. 

Maybe that was why she had waited so long to talk through  _ this _ with Brandon, who hated oversharing. 

Still, she looks up at him, steeling herself. 

“I never thanked you, you know.”   
  
Brandon cuts a glance at Taylor through the rearview mirror, confused. 

“Sorry?”   
  


“I never thanked you for staying.” Taylor says. “You could have quit. I know you felt more of a connection with Karlie. You still do.”    
  


Brandon has started to go very red. 

“Taylor-”  
  
“It doesn’t hurt my feelings, it’s just true,” She continues calmly. “You could’ve easily gone to work for someone else, but you didn’t. You’re loyal, despite your personal feelings, and I respect you very much for that. So thank you.” 

Brandon doesn’t say anything for a minute, jaw tight. He doesn’t speak again until they reach central London, a few blocks from the bakery. 

“I apologize if my attitude was disrespectful following… the divorce,” He clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable. “I’ve worked for you for almost ten years, Taylor.”   
  
As if Taylor could forget. She still remembers that day in Brisbane, sweating off all her makeup, irritated by the stoic, seemingly cold man that stood in front of her. She thought his name was Bryan at first, she remembers with a smirk. 

“-I have immense respect for who you are and what you do. I truly don’t have anything personal against you.” He says, looking steadily at her through the rearview mirror. “Of course I was upset when things ended badly between you and Karlie. You both are like daughters to me. I was at your wedding, Taylor.”

He was. Looking slightly hilarious in his tux, but nevertheless. Taylor very nearly lost her temper when he wouldn’t let her see Karlie in her dress. Taylor’s heart sinks a little as she realizes where he’s going with this.    
  


“-I was there when things fell apart in New York. Of  _ course _ I was devastated to see Karlie leave, but it wasn’t just me that felt that way. Everyone was.” 

Everyone. Her parents, Austin, Ed, Martha, and Abigail. Harry and Louis. Cara, Gigi, and Todrick. Her own choice and Karlie’s response had led to a fallout so catastrophic it took years to repair those friendships. No longer Taylor  _ and _ Karlie. 

Taylor. Full stop. Karlie. 

“So I apologize,” Brandon finishes, turning around to look at Taylor. “I didn’t mean to seem cold or impassive.” 

Taylor can only nod, suddenly taken aback by the older man’s perspective. She’d always had trouble interpreting his emotions or knowing exactly what he was thinking. Brandon hid behind a facade, a protective wall built up from his former work in the military, still necessary now to protect himself. From what, Taylor now knew. 

Because when you involve yourself - platonically or non-platonically - with someone you care deeply about, and then they  _ leave _ , it hurts like nothing else. 

“That’s… incredibly kind of you to say,” Taylor says, her voice hoarse from more than her sore throat now. Thank you, Brandon.”

  
Brandon offers a gentle smile. 

“You’re welcome. Now, do you think we could start over? No hard feelings?” 

“I would love to.” 

Brandon pulls over onto the side of the road, parallel parking into an open spot in front of Magnolia’s. 

“Would you like me to come in with you?”  
  
“Yes, please,” Taylor says, a little shy now that the man has all but bared his soul to her. “Thank you.” 

Snow is started to fall around them in soft layers. Taylor stares down at her gloves, watching the delicate snowflakes land on the fabric, the white stark against deep red. 

Brandon opens the door for Taylor and she steps inside, deeply comforted by the warm smell of the bakery, and the tall man that stood behind her. 

What she’d told Noah that morning was exactly right. Sometimes things happen when you least expect them to. 

… 

Half an hour later, Brandon brings the car to the side of Karlie’s street. 

“Thank you,” Taylor says, unbuckling her seatbelt and reaching for the bag of food. “I should be ready around ten tomorrow.”  
  
“Yes, ma’am.” Brandon says on reflex, and then catches himself. “Yes, Taylor.”  
  
“The kids are staying at Martha’s place tonight, but I’d like to leave the security lights on at my place.”   
  
“I’ll be there with the rest of the team,” Brandon nods. “And I’ll be here at ten.”  
  
Taylor knows he will. She’s never doubted Brandon. 

… 

Taylor has to ring the doorbell three times. She waits on the doorstep, shifting from foot to foot in the cold. This winter was never-ending, it seemed. 

The door swings open, and Taylor looks up at Karlie. There’s no doubting the woman is sick. Karlie wears a deep blue pullover and sweatpants, her feet in wool slippers. She coughs once into her elbow, pulling back to reveal a red nose and swollen eyes. She blinks, dazed, back at Taylor and frowns. 

“What are you doing here?” 

  
Taylor winces at the gravelly sound of Karlie’s voice, and holds up the white  _ Magnolia’s _ bag.    
  


Karlie’s eyes soften.

“You didn’t.”  
  
“I did. And I’m going to take care of you, whether you like it or not.”   


Karlie turns away, lost in another coughing fit. When she finishes and turns back to Taylor, her eyes are watering. 

“Where-” She clears her throat. “Where are the kids?”  
  
“With Martha for the night.”

Karlie looks at her, incredulous.    
  


“You’re staying the _night_?”  
  
“What else am I supposed to do?” Taylor teases her. “Leave you to fend for yourself, all alone, met with a slow death?” 

“Alright, fuck off,” Karlie says, but steps aside to let Taylor in. “Come in, it’s freezing. You better not get sick because of me, I’ll be so pissed off.”    
  


Taylor thinks she can live with that.    
  


…

Later in the kitchen, Taylor is pulling out pots and pans, emptying the soup into one to simmer on the stove. 

Karlie, meanwhile, stares at her bleary-eyed, warming her hands on the mug of tea Taylor has just poured her. 

“You’re too good to me.”

  
  
Taylor smiles at Karlie as she turns on the gas, lighting the flame quickly and placing the pot on top. Karlie was in love with old houses as much as Taylor, though they came with their own troubles. Gas stoves instead of electric, and bad heating. If Taylor could guess, it’s probably the lack of heating that’s made Karlie sick. Even with the fireplace lit and a scarf on, Taylor was cold in here. 

“Making up for lost time, right?”

  
  
“Something like that.” 

While the broth simmers, Taylor pulls open Karlie’s fridge, frowning at its contents. There are plenty of vegetables - carrots, onions, celery, potatoes, and mushrooms - for making a good soup, but no meat. Taylor had planned to make her signature chicken soup, something Karlie would want when she was sick years ago.

“Is there chicken in the freezer?”

  
  
Karlie gives her a funny look, setting down her mug of tea. 

“I don’t eat meat.” 

“You don’t-” Taylor falters. “Wait, I didn’t know that. When did you stop eating meat?” 

  
  
“Three years ago.”

  
  
Taylor closes the fridge, suddenly quiet.

“Oh.” 

It was the little things, bits and pieces and inside jokes, recipes and favorite foods and songs and shows and clothes. For three years, each of them have been out of sync, living their respective lives with the other half missing. Taylor has so much to learn.

“Vegetable soup is fine, my love,” Karlie says quickly, and coughs again, wheezing. “I would help, but I’ll contaminate everything.” 

“I’ll chop up what’s in the fridge,” Taylor waves it off. “No problem.”

  
  
While Taylor beings to dice the celery and carrots, dropping them into the simmering broth on the stove, Karlie moves her chair next to the stove.

“Tell me a story.” 

  
  
Taylor looks up, amused. They used to play this game years ago, a way to pass time on car rides, trains, planes, even just before they fell asleep. It was surprisingly intimate, too. The stories they told when playing this game were usually very personal. It’s a secret tradition of theirs, this game, and Karlie’s reminded Taylor of it deliberately, to show her that some things would never change. 

“A story?”

  
  
“Anything,” Karlie draws her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them. “I’m not picky.” 

  
  
Taylor frowns, thinking of a good one. 

“Alright,” She says. “It was years ago. After I moved to New York, right after my first year of the tour.”

“Where was I?”

“Before you,” Taylor’s smiling at the memory. “I was meeting Cara for lunch. It was the middle of the winter and I walked out of the apartment to a slew of photographers, of course,” She rolls her eyes. “That was back when Tree and I were on better terms, but she still pushed for what she wanted without asking.” 

Taylor stops chopping vegetables for a second, remembering the exact details. 

“Anyhow, I walked out completely unprepared and overwhelmed. I was supposed to meet Cara, but the photographers were shouting things that made me feel so disgusting that I asked Brandon to take me to a coffee shop.”   
  


Taylor throws in a handful of diced potatoes, the broth splashing a little. 

  
  
“We sat away from the windows in this little boutique bakery and cafe. He gave me his hat and I put my hair up under it.”

Karlie closes her eyes, momentarily reminding herself to thank Brandon for the thousandth time for taking care of her girl.  _ That man,  _ She thinks,  _ is a Godsend.  _

“It was… bizarre.” Taylor picks up the knife again, though her motions are more deliberate now. More careful. “It went from everything all at once to nothing. No one recognized me. I was just some girl with her hair up in a beanie, like anyone in New York City in the middle of February.” 

“Taylor,” Karlie says quietly, feeling the need to remind her. “You’re not just any other girl.”

“I didn’t mean it like that-” 

“No, I know what you meant. I’ve been there too. It’s disorienting.” 

Taylor stares at Karlie, holding the moment between them for a second, and smiles. She ladles out a bowl of soup, sliding it across the counter to Karlie.

“Be careful, it’s hot.” 

And though Karlie knows it’s too early, she shouldn’t say it, she wants to. 

She wants to say, I love you. I always have. I always will. 

_ Ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?  _

…    
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feel free to comment and let me know what you thought! Your words make my day :)
> 
> \- J xx


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello!
> 
> Holiday break has officially started and I am drowning in free time. Here is one of (hopefully) more chapters to come this week. 
> 
> Happy early Thanksgiving to those of you who celebrate. 
> 
> \- J xx

Karlie wakes to an aching throat and an empty bed. 

Everything hurts. Her chest, her lungs, her head. It’s as though she’s been wrung out and left to dry, her muscles stagnant and lips so chapped they’re nearly raw. 

It’s a slow, painful process getting out of bed. She manages to pull on a pair of socks and a sweater. Jesus, it was freezing. 

The hinges of the bedroom door protest as she pushes it open, peering down the hallway to find that the lights in the kitchen are on. 

… 

_ Hi, honey.  _

Taylor deflates, already feeling the guilt rising in her stomach. The worry in her mother’s voice was palpable even over voicemail, though she tried her best to conceal is. 

_ I hope everything is okay. I know you’ve been busy the past few days in the studio. I hope everything is going well, I’m excited to hear your new demos.  _

A long, reluctant pause. 

_ Is it Karlie’s week? I called the house last night and Brandon answered, he said the kids were with Martha. Are you staying with Abigail? I didn’t know she was in town.  _

The suspicion is evident in her tone, not yet accusatory, but Taylor can tell when her mother is connecting the pieces. This was not going to end well. 

_ Anyway, I hope you’re alright, sweetheart, and sleeping well. It’s too cold over there. Make sure you’re wearing a hat and gloves.  _

Andrea sighs heavily, giving in. 

_ Alright, I’ll let you go. Bye Taffy, I love you.  _

Taylor turns off her phone, leaning forward to rest her head in her hands. She exhales heavily, willing a solution to present itself. 

“You alright?” 

She yelps, turning around to find Karlie leaned against the doorframe, bundled in a blue sweater. 

“Jesus  _ Christ _ , Karlie.” 

The woman looked slightly better, her eyes not as swollen and cheeks less flushed. Taylor smiles in spite of her heart rate, which was at least a thousand beats per minute.   
  
“Sorry,” Karlie laughs quietly, still a little hoarse. “You weren’t in bed, so I went looking. What’s the matter?”   
  


“My mom.” Taylor says, rubbing at her eyes. She lets out a frustrated growl. “She’s just… being difficult. And a little suffocating.” 

Karlie walks over to the coffee table, pulling out a chair. She sits across from Taylor, expectant.   
  
“How so?”  
  
“She’s of the opinion that what we’re doing is not a good idea.”

“She knows?”  
  
“I didn’t tell her explicitly, but yeah, I think she knows.”  
  
“Oh.”

Taylor stands up, her chair scraping against the floor. She starts to fiddle with the hem of her sleeve, a nervous habit that still remained after all these years. Karlie finds it oddly comforting. 

“I think I need to go back home. The kids, and...” she trails off, shaking her head. “Martha can’t watch them forever. I’m sorry. I need to go back home.”  
  
And Karlie wants to say you _are_ home, this _is_ your home, but she’s in no place to. Taylor looks up at her, hair falling into her eyes, sleep-deprived and slightly frazzled, and says - 

“Go and pack, yeah? I’m not leaving you here like this. You might actually die.”   
  
Karlie doesn’t need to be told twice, laughing hard enough that she dissolves into another coughing fit as she heads back into her bedroom.

_ Their _ bedroom. 

… 

As promised, Brandon is outside Karlie’s flat by ten am. He makes no comment when Karlie follows Taylor out, toting an overnight bag. He simply smiles, helps the women with their bags, and nods in greeting to Karlie. 

“He’s in a good mood.” Karlie murmurs, sliding next to Taylor in the backseat. 

Taylor laughs, wrapping an arm around her partner. Karlie leans her head on Taylor’s shoulder, closing her eyes, relaxing for the first time all morning. 

“You wouldn’t even believe me if I told you why.” 

… 

Brandon stops the car, and Karlie turns to look out the window. She barks out a laugh. 

“Taylor, the Christmas lights are still up.” 

Taylor fumbles through her purse for the keys, not paying attention. 

“Yes, they are.”  
  
Karlie fixates her with a perplexed look.

“It’s nearly March, love.”  
  
“And still snowing,” Taylor unbuckled her seatbelt. “So I can leave the Christmas lights up for however long I want. I’m an adult.”  
  
“Who is slightly obsessed with Christmas.”

“Do you seriously want to insult me right now?” Taylor says, only half-joking. “While I’m offering up my lodging for a sickly person?”   
  
Karlie supposes not. 

“Go on,” Taylor pushes her gently towards the car door. “Martha’s waiting.”   
  


_ This is our place, and we make the rules.  _   
  


… 

Martha is beaming when Taylor opens the door, balancing Evie on one hip.

“Hi, darling!”   
  
“Hey,” Taylor leans in for a one-sided hug. “Thank you so much for watching them, Martha. It’s been a crazy few days.”  
  


“Don’t even worry about it. They’re both angels.”  
  
“Not always,” Taylor laughs, and reaches out to ruffle Evie’s hair, making her giggle. “Hi, love bug. Did you have a good time?”

“I hope you got lots of good work done in the studio. I can’t imagine the kind of deadlines you’re facing.”    
  


Karlie realizes that Taylor hasn’t told Martha where she’s actually been. 

“Of course,” Taylor lies. “I’ll tell Jack you say hi. He misses you.”   
  
Martha laughs, and steps aside to let Taylor in. Her eyes widen unmistakably when she sees the woman behind Taylor. 

“...Karlie!”    
  
Karlie unravels her scarf, pulling off her hat and gloves as she steps inside, blonde hair tumbling out in soft waves. 

“Hi, Martha. It’s nice to see you. Thank you for watching the little ones.”  
  
“Of course, it’s not a problem.”  
  
A long, awkward pause.   
  
“I’m sorry, I don’t-” Martha’s slightly flustered, even a little embarrassed as she turns back to look at Taylor, confused. “Is it her week? Did I mix up the schedule?”  
  
Taylor’s eyes cut to Karlie’s, her expression neutral. Karlie nods. _It’s okay._

“Karlie’s staying with me for the week, Martha. We’re… trying.”

She leaves it at that, because  _ trying _ was as good as she could give. As good as either of them could give, and certainly the most accurate definition at the moment. 

To her credit, Martha’s expression twists into one of complete and utter shock for about half a second before she controls it, replacing it with a more appropriate smile. 

“Oh. That’s... nice!” 

Karlie manages a polite smile, thinking  _ so nice!  _ It would be  _ so much nicer _ if people could reserve judgement and let two people try and reconcile a marriage on their own. 

But she knows now is not the time to have such a conversation, and decides to slide past the two women into the hallway. Noah is sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, assembling a lego spaceship. Karlie grins at the scene, lego shrapnel and various instruction manuals surround the little boy in a halo. 

“Hi, little man.”   
  
Noah looks up, delighted, at his mother. 

“Mommy!”    
  
Karlie crouches to his level, tugging off her boots and setting them aside so she can sit next to him.

“This looks incredible, Noah. I don’t think I could make something like that.”   
  
Noah gives her a strange look.

“You write language for  _ computers _ , Mommy. Yes you could.” 

Karlie laughs, wincing as it rattles her chest. 

“Thanks, buddy. That’s sweet.”

Footsteps in the hallway turn both of their heads, and there is Taylor, staring at the both of them with a stupid grin all over her face. 

“What?”  
  
“Nothing,” Taylor shakes her head. “Noah, be nice to your mother. She’s not feeling well.” 

Karlie rolls her eyes, and Noah giggles.

“I saw that.” Taylor says sharply. “Get up, both of you. It’s time for lunch.”    
  
And Karlie knows that this is how it used to be, the casual, everyday happenings. But the simple moments of in-between, the transient spaces of her life that used to be so empty, so meaningless, are now the ones she knows she’ll remember for the rest of her life. She’d be a rotten liar if it didn’t make her tear up, didn’t make her take Noah by the hand and walk into the kitchen to bring her partner and daughter into the tightest hug she could muster. 

_ All’s well that ends well to end up with you…  _

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, as always. 
> 
> Drop a comment below if you enjoyed it!
> 
> \- J xx


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello!
> 
> Another chapter, as promised. Happy reading! 
> 
> And a belated Happy Thanksgiving to those of you who celebrate it :) 
> 
> \- J xx

_ March  _

Uncanny, the passage of time. 

They’re walking hand in hand through Regents Park, Brandon trailing behind them with a walkie in hand. 

Taylor is remarkably well disguised in her long, navy blue woolen coat. Brandon had insisted on the beanie - a dull black of the same fabric - and Taylor begrudgingly pulled it on, tucking her golden hair up underneath it. Karlie would be able to tell it was her from a mile away, but passersby were none the wiser. 

“What are you thinking about so hard?”   
  


Taylor looks up at Karlie, her cheeks rosy from the cold, and laughs. She shakes her head. 

“Just this winter. It doesn’t want to end.”

“It really doesn’t.” 

But they’re still grinning as they track through the snow, ankle-deep. 

“I’ve been thinking,” Taylor lowers her voice, and Karlie turns around to see that Brandon has stopped, allowing them some room and privacy. “About our… arrangement.”  
  
“Okay,” Karlie exhales, her breath visible in the cold. “And?”  
  
“I think we should try.” 

_ Try _ , as in stay at one house.  _ Try _ , as in a second chance.  _ Try _ , as in  _ I trust you not to leave again.  _

And Karlie trusts herself not to walk away. 

Karlie looks at her partner, with her wide blue eyes and flushed cheeks, and leans forward to pull off her beanie. Golden curls tumble out to her breasts. Then she kisses her. Taylor leans into it, opening her mouth, wrapping her arms around Karlie, kissing her deeply. Taylor tastes like peppermint and chocolate - like the candies Noah liked to steal from the pantry - and Karlie laughs quietly as they break the kiss, suddenly aware that Brandon has turned around. 

“Is that a yes?”   
  
“Taylor Swift, are you asking me to move in with you?”  
  
“Yes, I am.” 

“Then it is  _ definitely _ a yes.” 

Taylor laughs loudly, reaching up to kiss Karlie again. They sway together for a moment, embracing, and they pull back again, breathless.

Brandon’s stern voice cuts through the quiet morning. 

“Taylor, put that hat back on!”    
  
And, giggling even harder, Taylor twists her hair up and pulls her disguise back on. They turn back the way they came, hand in hand. Just before they reach the west gate, Karlie stops to point out a small flower peeking through melting snow. Its green tendrils point toward the sky, its stark yellow petals unfolding like fingers. 

“Do you know what that is?” Karlie murmurs, pulling Taylor to her side, a gentle hand around her waist. 

Taylor would know it anywhere.

“It’s a Daisy.” 

When Karlie leans down to press a kiss to Taylor’s temple, Taylor decides she will live in this moment for the rest of time. 

_ Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close, forever and ever?  _

… 

Back at Taylor’s house, Evie and Martha are playing a game of hide and seek. Well, Martha is playing. Evie’s technique needs some work. The toddler’s idea of a good game was standing behind a chair and giggling until Martha came to find her, which didn’t take very long. 

“She’s the sweetest.” Martha says when they thank her for watching the little girl. “I wish Evan wasn't so adamant about waiting.”  
  
“How much longer until you can convince him?” Taylor takes Evie from her, hoisting the little girl onto her hip. 

“A few years, at least. With my career and his, it’s not really fair to bring a child into this,” Martha waves her hand in a sweeping gesture at  _ this _ . “It’s alright,” She smiles at Evie. “I’ll watch her anytime.” 

Karlie is boiling water on the stove, reaching for the coffee grounds and the french press. 

“Do you want anything to drink before you go, Martha?”  
  
“No thank you, I should be going. How was your walk?”  
  
The ice between Martha and Karlie had melted nearly a month earlier, after Taylor’s friend realized the genuine love between Karlie and Taylor, and how determined they were to fix things.

“It was great,” Taylor cuts in. “Spring is nearly here.”

Martha exhales heavily as she finds her purse and keys. 

“Thank God for that.”   
  
The door slams shut. Taylor sets Evie carefully on the ground, and the little girl toddles happily over to her mother at the stove. 

“Hi, lovie.”  
  
“Mommy,” Evie coos, giggling as Karlie leans down to pick up her daughter, setting her gently on the counter. 

“What should we make, pumpkin? How about hot chocolate?”   
  
Evie lets out a squeal that tells Karlie her suggestion was a good one, and she beings pulling out the cocoa and marshmallows. A pair of hands wrap around her waist from behind, and she feels Taylor press her forehead against the back of her neck. 

“Hi, there.” 

“I missed this.” Taylor says quietly, squeezing Karlie’s waist gently. “And I’m glad you’re staying.”  
  
“Me too, love.” 

Karlie thinks back to the daisy poking through the snow. Spring was coming. 

Thank God for that. 

…

Taylor is working through a chord progression on her acoustic, journal open on her lap, when the doorbell rings. 

She curses silently, cranes her neck to look for Karlie, who was still in the kitchen with Evie. Now they were making cookies, and obviously, a mess. 

“Babe, can you get that please? If I stop now I’ll forget the melody.”   
  
Karlie’s still got her apron on as she leaves Evie on the counter, warning her sternly not to move. 

“I’ve got it. Keep working.” 

Hurrying towards the front door, Karlie unlocks it and pulls it open, coming face to face with an all too familiar older woman.

“Andrea!” Karlie says, unable to hide the surprise in her voice. She is suddenly aware of the flour and cinnamon on her shirt, and the torn apron wrapped around her waist. “...It’s nice to see you, I’m sorry, come in.” 

“Hello, Karlie.” Andrea replies stiffly, stepping inside. “It’s nice to see you here.” 

_ But we might just get away with it… religion’s in your lips _

_ Even if it’s a false god.  _

_ We’d still worship this love.  _

...

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, as always. Feel free to comment below and let me know what you thought! 
> 
> \- J xx


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovelies,
> 
> I hope everyone had a good week. Just a heads up - this work will probably only have 4 or 5 more chapters :)
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> \- J xx

At a certain point, Taylor must have heard the noise and come to the front door, because she’s standing next to Karlie now. 

It’s all in slow motion. The disappointment written on Andrea’s face is undeniable, and Karlie could cry from the way Taylor’s mother looks her up and down, unimpressed. This woman used to view her as a second daughter. Karlie wonders briefly if she looked at Dianna this way, afterwards. Disgusted. 

“...Mom?”

Taylor’s still holding her guitar pick, the purple plastic between her pointer finger and thumb. She’s frozen. 

“You didn’t return my message,” Andrea tells her daughter simply. “You’ve never done that before.” 

Taylor pales, and Karlie steps protectively in front of her. 

“I don’t understand.” Andrea says, but it’s clear she does. “What’s happening here?”   
  


“We’re-” Taylor’s throat is closing in on her, so Karlie interjects.

“We’re trying. Trying to be a family again.”

“Just now?”   
  
Taylor’s found her voice behind Karlie. 

“No, for the last year or so. We’ve worked through it together. It’s been difficult, but we’re trying.” 

“I see.”   
  
Karlie resists the urge to bite back, because _ I see _ sounded a whole lot like  _ we’ll see,  _ as in,  _ this will never work.  _ But this was Taylor’s mother, a woman she once viewed as her own mother, and Karlie refuses to start a fight here on the threshold of Taylor’s home.

Of  _ their _ home. 

“Come in, Mom,” Taylor pleads quietly. “Come sit down. We can talk about it together, all of us.”   
  
Andrea pulls off her scarf, sighing heavily. 

“Where is my granddaughter? I’d like to see her first.”    
  
So the three of them head into the kitchen. Taylor’s songwriting is long forgotten, her guitar neglected on the sofa, sheet paper scattered across the settee. 

Karlie quickly moves to pick Evie off the counter, settling the toddler onto the ground, who shrieks in excitement when she sees her grandmother. The little girl toddles over to Andrea, wrapping her chubby arms around her, giggling. 

Taylor loops an arm around Karlie’s waist, pulling her aside. 

“It’s okay.”  
  
“I know,” Karlie murmurs, and presses a kiss to Taylor’s hairline. “I’ll set Noah up in his room with legos. Bring Evie in when she’s done?”  
  
“Sure,” Taylor nods. 

Karlie heads down the hall. Taylor watches her daughter and mother in their embrace, and wilts. She should’ve picked up the damn phone and called her mother back. Then they wouldn’t even be in this mess. 

_ It’s cool, that’s what I tell ‘em, no rules, in breakable heaven.  _

…

Ten minutes later, with the kids busy building towers in Noah’s room, Karlie returns to the kitchen. Taylor and her mother are cleaning in the kitchen, wiping flour from the counters and placing the spices back in the cupboard. Karlie thinks back to earlier that morning. To Taylor rolling over in bed, a mess of tangled curls, reaching out for her, and wishes she was still there. 

She wishes this moment was still theirs, and only theirs. 

“Would you like coffee, Andrea?” She asks instead. “I can put on a pot. We have the strong blend you like.”  
  
“Yes, thank you,” Andrea says politely. That would be lovely.”

Karlie busies herself with the familiar, methodical movements: filling the french press with hot water, pouring in the grounds, stirring, waiting. She can feel her face heating up, can feel Andrea’s eyes on her as she pours the coffee for all of them, adding milk and two sugars the way Taylor liked it. 

“Thank you,” Taylor says, reaching for the mug, and sliding the other to Andrea. “Here, Mom.”   
  
Karlie takes her own cup, the ceramic so hot it nearly burns her fingertips, and tries to ground herself.

_ Same team.  _

They end up at the coffee table by the bay window, their favorite spot in the house. Andrea takes a sip of her coffee, swallows, and then stares hard at her daughter. 

“I’m in no position to make choices for you,” She says evenly. “That is no longer my job. But I must say, and I apologize Karlie for being so direct, I don’t think this is a good idea. After what happened, it hardly seems the right choice.”  
  
“I understand that.” Taylor nods. “A year and a half ago, I would’ve said the same thing.”  
  
“I would’ve as well,” Karlie agrees. “Andrea, we’re well aware of the impact this decision has on our children. We spent months considering it. This wasn’t an easy choice. It never has been.” 

“And I respect you both for it.” Andrea says. “But I’m protective of my daughter, Karlie. She’s my baby, and I don’t want her to get hurt again.”   
  


Again. Karlie would carry that reminder for the rest of her life, that she hurt Taylor once, and so many people thought she would again. 

“I don’t want to hurt Taylor either.” 

“She’s not going to.” Taylor says firmly.

Andrea looks at Taylor, genuinely confused.

“You don’t remember, do you?”   
  
Karlie watches as her partner stiffens, slowly setting her mug down, her fingers curling into fists. 

“I remember well enough.”   
  


“What?” Karlie asks, looking between them. “Remember what?”  
  
“Nothing.” Taylor says tightly. “Mom,” She says, a warning. “Don’t.” 

“She called me at three in the morning,” Andrea says, looking at Karlie. “She was sobbing like she hasn’t since she was a child, because her wife had left her.”

Silence. Taylor sets her jaw, refusing to make eye contact.    
  


“...I’m sorry,” Karlie swallows harshly, not quite knowing how to process this story, which she’s never heard before. “That’s all I can say. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life, but both of us thought it was the only way at the time. We were too broken after Daisy. We didn’t know how to fix it.”   
  


Taylor inhales sharply. 

“No one could blame you for the way you reacted to that grief,” Andrea says graciously. “But it still devastated her.”  
  
“I can promise you that I’m here to say,” Karlie vows. “I was here to stay months ago, and I’m here to stay now.” 

Taylor reaches her hand across the table, and Karlie laces their fingers together tightly.  _ One, two, three. I. Love. You.  _ Andrea watches this, pursing her lips. 

“You’ll forgive me for not believing you just yet.”   
  
“Of course.” 

...

The house is quiet and dark when Andrea leaves, bundling up in her scarf again, kissing Taylor on the cheek. She’s gone as quickly as she arrives, pulling Noah into a quick but sweet hug at the last minute as he stumbles out of his bedroom, half-asleep. Taylor and Karlie are left frazzled in the hallway as the door closes. 

“Are you okay?”

  
  
Karlie looks down at Taylor, who is rosy-cheeked and flustered, and tries to smile. It isn’t easy. 

“I’ve been better. How about you?"

“Don't worry about me," Taylor shakes her head. "I’m sorry. She’s cruel without meaning to be.” 

  
  
“You’ve got nothing to apologize for, my love,” Karlie leans down to kiss Taylor’s cheek. “I’m alright. I’m gonna have a shower, and then we’ll eat?”

  
  
“Okay.” 

In the bathroom, Karlie turns the shower dial to as hot as it’ll go. Karlie stays under the stream until her skin is red and raw, scalded. She grounds herself, focusing on the sting. Even with a hand clamped over her mouth, her sobs still echo off the tile. 

_ She called me at three in the morning. She was sobbing like she hasn’t since she was a child, because her wife had left her. _   
  


…

Later that night, after Karlie comes out in a robe with suspiciously red eyes, after they eat dinner in silence and Evie and Noah are put to bed, Taylor and Karlie start washing the dishes. They stand shoulder to shoulder at the sink, Karlie in suds up to her forearms, Taylor drying each dish she’s handed. They are silent, until Karlie finally says it. 

“Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“Tell you what?”

  
  
“What Andrea said, about what happened afterwards.” 

Taylor continues to dry the bowl in her hand, moving in short, methodical circles. 

“Because it wouldn’t have helped anyone.” 

“I didn’t know you were hurting that badly. I didn’t… I wouldn’t have cut off all contact if I knew that.”

  
  
“Would you have stayed?”  
  


There’s no malice in Taylor’s tone. Karlie looks at her and sees she’s genuinely curious. 

“I don’t know.” They’re silent for a moment, and Karlie hands Taylor another plate, lost in her thoughts. “I really don’t, love. I was a different person.”

Taylor is quiet, waiting for her to finish. 

“I still feel guilty.”

  
  
“Why?”

“Because I  _ left _ , Taylor,” Karlie says sharply, dunking a plate into the hot water, her hands stinging. “I left, and I’ll never forgive myself for that.” 

  
  
“I’m the one that pushed you away-”

  
  
“I didn’t try and stop you though, did I?”

  
  
Her tone is dark, leaving no room for argument. 

“Is this a fight?” Asks Taylor, bewildered. Slowly, she sets down the plate she was drying and looks at her partner. “Are we actually fighting over this right now? Karlie, I’ve told you so many times that it’s fine. We’re  _ fine _ .”

  
  
“It’s just another fucking thing I have to hold onto, though, isn’t it? That I didn’t stick it out long enough to fix us?”

Karlie pulls her hands out of the sink, angrily shaking them dry and reaching for a dishtowel. 

  
  
“You know I don’t blame you for that, for any of what happened. We couldn’t have been fixed back then. We were different people.” 

  
  
“But I’m-” Karlie’s voice breaks, and Taylor looks up at her, shocked. “I’m still so _sorry_ , Taylor.”

It’s not the apology that leaves Taylor speechless, nor is it the fact that Karlie still feels this way after all these years, it’s the way Karlie says her name, and the quiet sob that follows. Karlie never cried. Not like this.

“Kar,” Taylor says softly, reaching for her. “Hey, sweetheart. I know that. I know you are.”   
  


“I should’ve tried harder,” Karlie chokes out, pulling away from Taylor to wipe harshly at her eyes. “So fucking stupid, we should’ve known, should’ve worked for it-” 

  
“Stop it,” Taylor says sharply, reaching for her again and succeeding this time, pulling her into a tight hug. “Baby girl, don’t cry over this. Please don’t. C’mere.” 

The two of them stand like that for a long time, swaying slightly in each other's arms under the glow of the refrigerator light, the dishes in the sink long forgotten. 

“My mom knows,” Karlie finally says. Taylor looks up, confused. “The morning after the party,” She explains. “when I got home. I never told you. I should’ve.”

  
  
“It’s alright.”

  
  
“It’s not. I should’ve told you, I’m sorry.”

  
  
“You’re forgiven,” Taylor says quietly, and Karlie knows she isn’t just talking about her mother. “I trust you."

Karlie blinks back a few more tears, and when Taylor shushes her she laughs, reaching up to wipe at her eyes. 

“God. What did I do to deserve you?”

  
  
“If I remember correctly, you tried to flirt with me on live television, and then fucked me until I couldn’t stand in my hotel room.”

  
  
Karlie laughs at Taylor’s crude remark, her eyes lighting up at the memory. 

“That was a good night.” She brings her hand down to cup Taylor’s cheek, dragging her thumb under her eyes, which were starting to well up too. “I think about that day all the time.” 

  
  
“Me too.” Taylor says thickly, holding her gaze. "Me too."

Tears are running down Taylor’s cheeks that have nothing to do with their fight now. Karlie catches them with her fingertips. Taylor leans forward, fingers trembling, and starts to unbutton Karlie’s top. Karlie watches her, exhaling slowly.

“You know I want you,” Taylor says, barely a whisper. “I always have. I always will.”

Karlie reaches down to help her with the buttons, their fingers working quickly together.

“Clean slate?”   


  
“Clean slate,” Taylor says fiercely. “Same team.” 

_I know heaven's a thing, I go there when you touch me. Honey, hell is when I fight with you,_

_ But we can patch it up good, make confessions and we’re begging for forgiveness, got the wine for you... _

… 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading as always,
> 
> Please leave a comment below if you enjoyed it!
> 
> \- J xx


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello!
> 
> It feels like yesterday Thanksgiving Break ended and now Christmas Break is creeping up on us FAST. Man.
> 
> Hope everyone is having a glorious Sunday. 
> 
> \- J xx

Taylor is woken at six in the morning by someone poking insistently at her shoulder. She turns, groggily, and is met with a disgruntled looking little boy. 

There stands Noah, hair tousled and eyes shining, positively exuding irritation. She doesn’t know what’s upset him this early in the morning, and honestly, she is too tired to find out. 

“Noah, it’s too early.” She says hoarsely, feebly shooing him away. “Go back t’ bed.”

“It’s Saturday.”

As if that made any difference. 

“Sweetheart, Mama had a long day yesterday. Let me sleep. Go back to your room, please.” 

Still, Noah persists.

“Mama, it’s Saturday. We have to make waffles. It’s the  _ rules _ .” 

Taylor has no idea what he’s talking about. Noah and her have never made waffles as far as she can remember, and never on a Saturday. She liked pancakes better. Waffles were always so dry. 

Next to her, Karlie starts to stir, rolling over and slinging an arm across Taylor’s waist. She sighs heavily against Taylor’s neck, nuzzling into her. She was always like this in the early morning, drifting in and out, murmuring quietly and then falling straight back to sleep. 

“Baby,” Taylor pleads for the last time, and pulls the covers back up over them. “Go and play with the train set Uncle Harry gave you, okay? We’ll be up in an hour.” 

Or maybe two. The sheets were still so warm. God, Taylor was already falling back into her dream. 

But Noah won’t take “no” for an answer. He hauls himself onto the mattress with surprising agility and lands right on top of Karlie, who is now awake and propped up on one elbow, wondering what on earth was going on. 

“S’ waffle day!” 

Taylor realizes there’s something she doesn’t know when Karlie gives Noah a crooked, bleary smile. 

“Yes, it is.” 

….

Evie was much less agreeable to being woken up at six-fifteen, and Taylor has to rock her in her lap before bringing her into the kitchen. 

There, Karlie and Noah are pulling out ingredients for breakfast. Karlie still doesn’t know where everything belongs in this house, so Noah dutifully points to the right cupboards, and reaches on tiptoe to pull down a bag of flour or a jar of cinnamon. 

“Down,” Evie demands, tugging at Taylor’s sleeve. “Down, please.”    
  
Taylor sets her down on the kitchen floor and Evie runs to Meredith, who flicks her tail, hisses, and flees down the hall. Benjamin and Olivia watch this unfold, perturbed as always. Taylor still doesn’t feel fully awake. She’s living in some sort of time warp, a dimension where things have fallen perfectly into place. 

A melody pops into her head in the split-second that Karlie looks up and sees her standing there, and grins so wide that Taylor nearly melts into the floor. 

How many moments had she missed like this? How many moments would she never get back?

_ Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close, forever and ever?  _

… 

“Mama, we need blueberries.”   
  
Taylor can’t help but laugh at her son’s matter-of-fact tone. Noah’s wearing one of Taylor’s aprons, the paisley patterned one that’s much too big on him. 

“I’ll find you some, my love.”

Taylor pulls a carton of blueberries from her fridge, handing it over to Noah. Karlie wraps an arm around Taylor’s waist, pulling her to her side. Taylor turns and tucks herself into Karlie’s neck, inhaling deeply. Karlie still smells like last night, like the almond and honey body wash they used in the shower. 

“What’s all this about?” Taylor reaches down to dip her finger into the batter and Karlie swats her away.   
  
“I’m not allowed to make you breakfast?” Karlie sounds amused. She adds a little cinnamon and sugar to the mix, folding it in. “Noah, tell Mama about our Saturdays.” 

  
Noah, who has powdered sugar on his forehead somehow, looks up at Taylor and grins. God, he looks so much like Karlie when he does that. It floors Taylor, even now. 

“Saturday is waffle day,” He raises up on tiptoe to peer over the counter, offering Karlie blueberries. She pours them in, the fruit sinking into the thick mixture. “We make breakfast and then go to the park.” 

It dawns on her that there were several traditions she’d never been a part of while the kids were away with Karlie. Every other week for the past two years, she’d had the house to herself to compose and write and generally pass the time until Sunday arrived again. 

“That sounds amazing, buddy. How come we never do that?”   
  


Noah gives her an incredulous look.

“‘Cause you don’t like waffles, Mama.”   
  
Karlie abruptly stops whisking.

“ _ What _ ?” 

And across the kitchen floor, Evie lets out a high pitched giggle. 

“Are you laughing at me, Everly?” Taylor mocks a tone of disbelief. “What’s so funny?”   
  
Evie doesn’t answer, continuing to giggle, her cheeks growing rosy. Cautiously, Olivia pads over to the little girl, who scoops her up into her arms gladly. Karlie helps Noah add in another handful of blueberries, stirring them into the mix. 

“I hope you have a waffle maker.” Karlie murmurs in Taylor’s ear. “Didn’t think to ask.”

Taylor feigns a dramatic groan. 

“I’m sure I can find one somewhere.” 

…

Six days a week, Brandon wakes at 6:30 sharp and pulls on his uniform. He washes his face, brushes his teeth, and drives over to Notting Hill. 

It’s a quick drive. London is quiet and dark as he parks on the side of the street. Mark, the head of night security is already waiting outside the gated residence. They exchange a few words, both too tired and cold to ask about the footie game or the kids, or the wives, but Brandon doesn’t mind. He relieves Mark of his shift, buzzes himself in through the gate, and walks up the path. He uses the side door, punching in the code as not to trigger the alarm, and steps inside. 

The house, like outside, is quiet and dark. Taylor was not an early riser when she wasn’t working, he’d learned. It wasn’t uncommon for the woman to come into the kitchen at two in the afternoon, pulling cereal from a cupboard, still half-asleep, when it wasn’t her week with the kids. 

Imagine his surprise when he walks down the hall, reaching the kitchen to find it loud and glowing with light. The fireplace is on in the living room, and Karlie, Taylor, and the kids are sat around the coffee table. A plate piled high with blueberry waffles sits in the center, surrounded with mugs of coffee and orange juice. Noah is struggling with the top of the maple syrup and Karlie reaches over, swiftly opening it. Taylor is busy cutting Evie’s waffles into bite-size pieces when she notices him, and her eyes light up. 

“Brandon!” 

“Mornin’,” He calls, offering an awkward wave. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize everyone was up.”  
  
“No problem.” Taylor shakes her head. “Come and join us, we made too many waffles.”  
  
Brandon knows he shouldn’t. It’s unprofessional, to say the least, but he was rather hungry. He kept forgetting to grab a piece of fruit or toast on his way out of the house.

“Brandon,” Karlie insists. “We mean it. Come over here.”   
  
So he does, pulling up a chair and gladly accepting a plate with more waffles than he can eat. 

“Go on,” Taylor teases him, pouring out another mug of coffee. “Say it.”   
  


“S’ a bit American,” He says gruffly. “That’s all.”   
  
Karlie and Taylor laugh in unison, a sound he hasn’t heard in years. 

_ We could let our friends crash in the living room. This is our place, we make the call.  _   
  
…

Less than fifteen minutes later, the tension returns, wound tighter than it had been in the past week. 

“It’s a bad idea.”

Taylor raked her fingers through her hair, blowing out a sigh. She can’t hide her disappointment. Noah is going to be devastated. 

“I know.”

“It’s just too soon,” Karlie reminds her quietly. “It’s too complicated. Especially when it’s not just me or you.”    
  
Of course it was. Because walking through Regents Park when you’re Karlie Kloss meant pulling on a knit cap and sunglasses. It meant giving your children what they wanted without having to consider the logistics of everyone’s safety. Taylor couldn’t do that. Not ten years ago, and not now. 

So here they stand in the hallway, voices low, while Brandon entertains the kids in the kitchen. Taylor tries not to think about how simple this is for any other family. How simple it is to just pull on boots and scarves and head out the door without a fucking  _ swat team.  _

“Just go without me,” She says dejectedly. “I don’t want to disappoint Noah.”   
  
“Taylor,” Karlie sounded hurt. “No. I’m not going without you. We’ll both stay here, he’ll be okay.”  
  
Too hurt to disagree, Taylor nods. Secretly, she knew she couldn’t stand waiting alone at home while Karlie and the kids enjoyed their Saturday morning. 

…

As anticipated, Noah does not take the news well. Thankfully, Brandon has to brief the rest of their team about the upcoming week, so he isn’t around to witness the tantrum unfold. Taylor and Karlie try their best to reason with the little boy, crouching to his height on the living room floor. Next to them, Evie played with Benjamin, who was the most agreeable to having his tail pulled. 

“That’s not fair! It’s Saturday, we  _ always _ do it on Saturday.” 

Karlie offers a hug and Noah pushes her away, glaring. 

“Noah,” Taylor says calmly. “We can find something else to do. Why don’t we go and play in the yard? We can play frisbee, it’s a beautiful day.” 

“You said we would go to the park,” Noah accuses, his lips are already trembling. “You never keep your promises.  _ Never _ !” 

“Noah,” Karlie says sharply. “Don’t use that tone with your mother.” 

Noah looks at her in disgust. 

“You can’t tell me what to do at Mama’s house, ‘cause you’re  _ not _ Mama!”

Silence. Noah goes bright red as he realizes what he’s done, eyes widening in fear. He knows what’s coming. Taylor points a finger down the hall, her eyes shining with anger.

“Go to your room.”    
  


“But-”  
  
“No sir. We don’t talk to anyone like that in this house, and certainly not your mother. Go to your room.”

“No!”

“Noah Kloss-Swift, I will count to ten and you’d better be waiting for me in your bedroom.” Taylor’s voice is growing louder. “ _ Now _ .” 

Noah stalks off, fuming. Taylor sits back down, cursing quietly. 

“That’s really not the way I wanted to start this weekend. I’ll go and talk to him in a minute.” 

Karlie doesn’t say anything. Taylor studies her partner carefully, frowning at her wide-eyed expression. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You said ‘Kloss-Swift.’”

Taylor tucks her hair behind her ears, blowing out a sigh. 

“What?”

“Kloss-Swift. You used both of our names.”

“Why wouldn’t I? That’s his last name.”

There’s a pause. Karlie shakes her head, dazed. 

“I don’t know. I haven’t heard you say that in so long.”   
  
Taylor goes quiet, her eyes filling with hurt.

“Hey,” Karlie reaches for her hand, squeezing it gently. “It’s okay. I’m alright,” She promises quietly. “Can I come with you to talk to him?”  
  
“Of course,” Taylor murmurs. “It’s our house now. We make the rules.” 

_ Oh, take me out and take me home. You’re my, my, my, my, lover.  _

… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I probably will not be posting over holiday break, just letting you guys know :)
> 
> Happy holidays!!
> 
> \- J xx


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello!
> 
> It's been a while. I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday.
> 
> I included some flashbacks in this chapter, because you all seem to enjoy them. P.S. This is the second to last chapter. ;)
> 
> \- J xx

Karlie finds Noah sulking in his room. He’s sitting on his bed, arms crossed, little legs swinging nervously over the side. She knows she shouldn’t, but Karlie is filled with a sense of pride for her son. God help them, he was as stubborn as her. 

Taylor walks in a moment later, tugging Evie along. The little girl lets go of Taylor’s hand and toddles toward Karlie, a thumb in her mouth. 

“Noah, love,” Taylor begins, moving to crouch on the floor in front of him. “You know why I sent you to your room, right?”  
  
“Because I snapped at Mommy,” He mumbled. “I was rude.” 

“That’s right. You need to understand we don’t use a tone like that when addressing adults. Especially when that adult is your mother. Please apologize to her.”   
  


Noah’s lip quivers but when he looks up at Karlie his resolve is strong. 

“I’m sorry, Mommy.”  
  
“You’re forgiven, Noah.” Karlie reaches up to ruffle Noah’s hair, but he avoids her eyes. “But I think you’re upset about something more than the park.”  
  
“No,” Noah says darkly. “M’not.”  
  


Taylor and Karlie share a knowing look. 

“Okay, buddy,” Karlie hauls herself up from the floor, and settles onto the mattress next to her son. “I need you to be honest with me now. Are you upset that Mama couldn’t come with us to the park?”   
  
Taylor wants so badly for Noah to say ‘no,’ but she braces herself for his answer all the same. 

“It’s just…” Noah’s face scrunches up, and he lets out a quiet, frustrated sob, surprising both of them. “It’s not  _ fair _ , Mommy. It didn’t used to be like this, we used to be able to do everything!”   
  


Everything. Walking in the park, going to Magnolia bakery, running wild in the grocery store without photographers trailing them. For too long, Karlie and Taylor didn’t realize anonymity was a luxury until it was ripped from their grasp. At just eight-years-old, Noah understood what it meant to be Taylor’s son.

Taylor joins Karlie and Noah on the bed, and swipes her thumbs under Noah’s eyes. 

“I know you don’t remember everything, baby boy,” She said softly. “But this is the way it used to be. You mother and I, and Evie, we all used to live in the same house. We did everything together.”

  
“It’s different, though.” Noah repeats, sniffling. “It’s all changed.”  
  
“Sometimes things change, sweetheart.” Taylor says. “And I know it’s scary at first, but I promise it’s a good thing. Change is good.” 

Noah looks up at her, wordlessly, and smiles the same crooked grin that made Taylor fall in love with Karlie all those years ago. 

And she knows they’re going to be okay. 

…

_ March _

_ April _

_ May  _

It was hard work, repairing their relationship and their family. Karlie and Taylor knew it would be a challenge, but they leaned into it, craving each other above all else and more than willing to take the setbacks with the triumphs. 

Karlie struggled to balance her work schedule with their new living arrangements, and quickly realized that flying to New York City every other week wouldn’t work the way it used to. Instead, she pushed hard for a Kode With Klossy headquarters in London, and set plans in motion for its groundbreaking. Occasionally, she would fly out to LA or NYC for shoots and meetings, but she wasn’t gone for long stretches. 

Taylor, too, had to adjust to their new life. She wrote songs in and out of the house, did the occasional benefit performance, face timed Jack constantly with new ideas, and generally tried to piece together the beginning stages of an album. Taylor didn’t play Karlie any demos, and not wanting to push, Karlie didn’t ask. 

They did fight. They were far and few between, but on occasion Taylor would hurl an ultimatum Karlie’s way and then dissolve into tears, apologizing for it. Karlie still had her quick temper, and Taylor had a way of pushing buttons when she was tired. They always apologized and vowed to try harder, and they did. 

Months passed, and Taylor and Karlie were happier than they’d ever been. But to watch their children run wild in the yard, stomping through puddles in the park, cuddling together under blankets in front of the TV, it still reminded Taylor of Daisy. She retreated every so often to the bedroom for a quiet moment, promising she was alright, even though Karlie knew she wasn’t. She never would be, not entirely. 

Daisy remained a devastating topic. Their loss of their daughter left scars still raw and seeping, scars so deep that even grazing over them left them hissing, recoiling from the pain. Karlie and Taylor were the most merciless when they remembered what they’d lost. They had similar conversations leading up to the divorce, Taylor remembers them well. 

_ “Because you refused to let me in, Taylor,” Karlie says helplessly. “How many hours did I spend sitting outside the bathroom door because you’d locked yourself in? You didn’t leave me with anything, it was like I lost both of you. You were both taken from me at once.”  _

_ “Don’t pretend this is all my fault. You were cruel,” Taylor fires back. “You were cruel when you wanted to be and you’d never let me doubt myself because it didn’t fit your perfect idea of me. You swooped in to try and fix me. I’m not perfect, Karlie!” She cries. “I was broken, I’m still a little broken. I lost our daughter, Karlie, that was my fault. I’ll never forget that.” _

_  
__“It wasn’t your fucking fault-”_ _  
_ _  
__“You don’t know how it felt!” Taylor yells, her voice ragged. Karlie goes very still. “You don’t know what it’s like to have a life ripped away from your own body. You can’t blame anybody but yourself. There’s no one else to blame.”_

Grief. It was supposed to leave you numb, scrambling for purchase on the sheer cliff face of sorrow, but Karlie remembered it all. Every single detail. 

_ …  _

_ Then  _

Their grief counselor had said to stop apologizing, but Karlie didn’t know what else she could do. 

It felt necessary, apologizing, because isn’t that what you do when you’re unconsolable? It became instinct: fighting off tears, forcing smiles, murmuring apologies, because they were both  _ so tired _ of crying by now.

Five months. A baby has fingernails, eyebrows, and a head of hair at that stage. They’d chosen her name, painted the nursery a pale yellow, assembled the crib. 

Earth-shattering. That’s the only way Karlie could explain it. To watch her wife completely break down, completely shut her out, sobbing for hours on end. 

And then one day, after weeks and weeks of darkness, Karlie intervenes. 

She walks into their bedroom, draws the curtains, lets sunlight stream in. She pulls Taylor gently out from under the covers and guides her into the bathroom. She draws her a hot bath, and gets in with her. 

There, with her wife laying against her chest, drifting off, Karlie says -

“I love you. And I don’t want you to hurt like this forever. You’re meeting with a therapist this afternoon, his name is Eli.”  
  
And that’s when Taylor’s life changed completely. 

_ …. _

Eli was a tall, thin man. He had short, dark hair and wore horn-rimmed glasses. He was soft-spoken with a faint, clipped accent Taylor still couldn’t place - Auckland, maybe? Eli exuded calm, and every room he walked into was a room Taylor felt safe in. Eli wasn’t much older than Taylor, but he reminded her of her grandfather. He had that way about him, a warmth, a sense of security, and although Taylor knew that was crucial to his line of work, she found it a genuine quality of his personality. 

Taylor liked Eli, and that’s why she felt comfortable telling him absolutely everything about her life. 

It wasn’t always like that. Their first session, Taylor came very close to screaming at him. He was so unfazed, so methodical in the way he asked his questions. She found him sterile and unapologetic. She didn’t like him at all. 

“How would you like to start, Taylor?”  
  
“I don’t want to talk about her.”  
  
Eli looked confused. “Her?”  
  
“Daisy.” Taylor said harshly. “I’m not talking about her with you.”

She added a note of distaste on _you_ , but Eli didn’t react.   
  
“You don’t have to talk to me about anything, Taylor,” Eli says calmly. “We can both sit here in silence if you like.”   
  
So they did. Their first session was forty-five minutes of deafening silence. Taylor was stubborn, and had no problem staring down the man for the entire time. She had dealt with plenty of nosy interviewers. This was no different. 

And then a few sessions later, Eli finally broke through. He caught on to one detail and pushed hard for the next, and Taylor let him. 

“You mentioned that your previous relationship was complicated and gave you some bad coping skills. Could you elaborate on that?” 

Taylor would prefer not to, but she knows he’ll re circle ten minutes later, phrasing it in a different way. 

“Dianna and I had a very… physical relationship.” 

“By physical do you mean in a sexual way?”  
  
“Yes,” Taylor says tightly. “We had a lot of sex.” 

“I see. And how old were you when you lost your virginity?”   
  
Taylor is stunned by the question, but Eli simply waits for an answer, his pen poised. 

“If you’re uncomfortable, we’ll move on-” He begins smoothly. 

“I was eighteen.” 

She clears her throat awkwardly to fill the silence that follows. Eli offers no reaction, his expression blank. 

  
“To clarify, the first person you slept with was not Dianna.”  
  


“Yes.” 

“Are you comfortable telling me who it was?”  
  
“Emily Poe,” Taylor finds herself saying. “My fiddle player on my first tour.”   
  
Eli makes a note in his journal. 

“Did you ever feel uncomfortable or unsafe in that environment? Did you want to be physical in that way? Did you ever feel forced?”   
  
“No.” Taylor says, a little sharply. She takes a breath, and fixes her tone. “No, I mean, I always felt safe around her, Emily. Dianna was also very protective of me. I had to ask several times before we spent a night together. She was worried that she’d pressure me into something I wasn’t ready for.”   
  
“I don’t mean to typecast,” Eli says gently. “I’m just trying to understand these coping skills. Taylor. You mentioned that you put up walls, so to speak, to defend yourself. I’m trying to pinpoint where that started. More specifically, in which relationship?”

“I understand. It’s alright.” 

“This is a baseline,” He explains, setting down his notepad to look at her directly. “If we can get through these questions, I’ll know a little more about you, and then when you need support, I’ll know exactly how to offer it.” 

Taylor nods stiffly, and looks down at her hands. She’d laced them together out of nervousness, and isn’t surprised to see her knuckles are white. Her wedding ring looks gaudy and out of place, the sapphire less striking in this light. 

“Taylor,” Eli continues. “You’re what we call an ‘anxious attachment type,’ and Dianna is what we call an ‘avoidant attachment type.’”  
  
“I take it that isn’t a good combination.”  
  
“Not in a relationship, no, I’m afraid not.” 

Taylor exhales heavily. 

“I don’t know what to say.”  
  
“You don’t have to say anything.”  
  
And Taylor looks up at him, for some reason floored by this answer. She cannot remember a time in her life when she was allowed to not give an answer, to not speak against or for something, to not defend herself, or rather, not liberate herself. To just simply be. 

It’s freeing. 

“Thank you,” She says, and hangs her head quickly to hide the tears already forming. 

“You’re welcome, Taylor,” Eli says quietly. “I think we can stop here for today.” 

...

Months of sessions went by in this way, Taylor gradually growing more comfortable around her therapist, who remained a steadfast supporter in the wake of her devastation and confusion. 

Karlie and Taylor remained broken lovers, held together only by the promise of an easier, less painful future. And come August of that year, Taylor was due for a little girl in less than a month. 

Taylor’s fear was palpable, and Karlie offered support in any way she could, but both of them had the nagging, unspeakable question in the back of their minds:  _ what if it happens again?  _

“I’m scared.” Taylor admits helplessly one night in bed. “I can’t lose her. I don’t think I can come back from that.”  
  
Karlie feels the air leave her lungs as she realizes what Taylor means, and pulls her wife even closer, bringing her with some difficulty to her side. They lay like that for a moment, Taylor’s face pressed into Karlie’s neck, her fingers curled in her hair. They breathe in sync, chests rising and falling, an unspoken and profound heartache between them. 

“I believe in you,” Karlie murmurs, one arm wrapped protectively around Taylor’s waist. “I believe that the world is still good and capable of incredible things. And I know you can do this.”  
  
“But what if-” Taylor’s voice breaks as the question hangs unfinished in the air. 

“Don’t,” Karlie pleads. “Don’t, my love. Let’s focus on what we know. We have a beautiful baby girl on the way, and she is healthy and strong and coming soon. We know that for sure.” 

“Do you think Daisy would be upset?”  
  
“I think Daisy sent us this little girl to heal our hearts,” Karlie tells her. “And she’s watching us from her field of flowers, and she’s got your curly hair and smile, and she would’ve _loved_ you.” 

Quietly, Taylor starts to cry. Karlie holds her until she stops, pressing kisses to her hairline, reminding her that she is loved. 

_Call your bluff, call you babe_

_Yeah, have my back, every day_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Drop a comment if you enjoyed. I don't bite ;)
> 
> \- J xx


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, my loves!
> 
> My hometown just took a beating from a snowstorm, so I've been inside all day :) I hope everyone is having a lovely Saturday.
> 
> I originally thought this update would be the last chapter, but I have too much material and will be splitting it into two parts, haha. 
> 
> \- J xx

_ June  _

It’s Noah’s eighth birthday. 

The house is a mess, as usual. There were more than thirty adults milling around, a slice of cake or a glass of wine in their hand. Mostly school parents, but Martha, Jourdan, and Cara were there. The living room is strung with confetti and balloons, glittering in the fading light. 

It’s a beautiful summer evening, a soft breeze blowing through the trees and into the house through the open bay windows. Taylor is wearing a short summer dress, a dark purple fabric with tiny white flowers, and Karlie is holding her hand. She’s barefoot. Taylor’s got a glass of white wine, and she’s so grateful that this is happening, that they’re celebrating their child’s birthday together for the first time in nearly three years. 

They’re out on the patio watching their little boy, who isn’t so little anymore, play tag with his friends on the lawn. He’s having the best time, ducking under legs and hiding behind trees and shrieking in delight when he outruns Rosie. Taylor knows the little girl is adopted, but she confesses quietly to Harry that she’s looking more and more like him every day. 

Next to her, Harry’s eyes light up. 

“She does a bit, doesn’t she? It’s the hair. She always wants it in french braids, an’ it’s a curly mess when I take them out.”

Harry and Louis were doing better, Taylor could tell. The tension between them had faded, receding to the comfortable, warm way they regarded each other. They were always together, or an arms length away. Taylor was grateful that her friends had figured it out, mostly because what Noah and Evie had gone through was something she wouldn’t wish on any child, especially not Rosie.    
  


Karlie squeezes her hand. She’s also wearing a dress, a yellow print on white, and holding a glass of sangria. She’s barefoot, more at Taylor’s level, and she’s got her hair twisted up into a bun. Taylor loves the way she looks in this light, with her features on full display. Taylor turns and kisses her sweetly, tasting the red wine. 

Karlie grins crookedly. 

“Did I tell you I burned his first cake?”

  
  
Taylor laughs. “If it’s covered in icing, I sincerely doubt he’ll notice.”

  
  
“I had to scrap it and start over, but I think it turned out even better. I hope he’ll like it.”

  
  
“Of course he will.”

Karlie had made a three-tiered vanilla cake with chocolate buttercream. It was a gorgeous cake, decorated to perfection and dusted with icing sugar. Taylor joked that they should put it in a museum, that it was too pretty to eat. When they were alone, Karlie had joked that  _ Taylor _ was too pretty to eat, and you can imagine what transpired from there.    
  
They watch Noah for a moment. He’s zig-zagging across the lawn, whooping, his friends James and Adam on his tail. Taylor can remember what it was like to be this young, triumphant and wild, coming home with grass stains on her clothes and skinned knees and elbows. Back when she ran through the fields, her curls tangled and matted by sundown, her feet muddy. She saw so much of Noah in Karlie, but felt especially connected to him when she watched him play. He had that eternal joy about him that reminded Taylor of herself as a child. 

Louis looked over at them.

“So what did Noah ask for?”

  
  
“He wanted the biggest Lego set we could find,” Karlie says. “Taylor had to order it from the States, but I think he’s gonna really like it.”

It was the biggest, most complicated pirate ship set Karlie had ever seen, but it was nothing Noah couldn’t handle. 

  
  
“Hopefully,” Taylor takes a sip of her wine. “It’s all he asked for. We got him books, and art supplies, but I hope he likes the legos. It’s what he really wanted.”   


  
Harry gives her a funny look. 

“I think he’s got what he really wanted, love.”

  
  
Taylor frowns, confused. “How do you mean?”

  
  
“He’s got his parents living together again,” Harry says, like it’s obvious. “What more could a kid want?”

Just then, Noah calls Karlie’s name. His mother looks over and Noah does a cartwheel, bowing just like Taylor does onstage when he finishes. Taylor stifles a giggle. That was her little boy, alright. 

Karlie flashes a thumbs up. “Good job, Noah!” 

“That’s great, buddy!” Taylor calls. “Excellent bow!” 

Noah does a victory dance, and Taylor looks over at Harry. 

“I think you’re right.”

…    
  


_ July  _

July brings Taylor’s favorite holiday and a subsequent impromptu trip to Rhode Island. 

Karlie and Taylor hadn't been there since 2016, back when every photo they took together they were hiding in plain sight. 

“I can see it,” Karlie confessed one afternoon, flipping through their photo albums. “I can see it in your eyes. You look like you know something everyone doesn’t,” She holds up the album for Taylor to see. “Like you’ve got the best secret in the world.”  
  
“I did.” Taylor says, studying the photo. Karlie and her are on the waterslide, curled together, mid-laugh. Taylor’s red lipstick matches her bathing suit, and even with sunglasses on, Taylor can see the look in her eyes: triumph. “I love this photo, Kar.” 

“Me too.” 

Evie and Noah had never been to Rhode Island, and were fascinated by the idea of a beach you could visit in just minutes. They spent the week before the 4th sleeping off their jetlag and grilling out on the patio. Karlie helped Evie make gooey butter cake, which turned the kitchen into a gooey butter mess, but the dessert they ate later that night was worth it. 

Noah became fascinated by watercolor painting, and Taylor broke out her set from years ago to paint with him. They sat out on the patio facing the ocean and painted the incoming tide. Karlie hung both pieces on the fridge, and seeing them side by side made Taylor’s heart swell with pride.

It was difficult to be in this house without thinking of the first time Karlie and Taylor were here, nearly fourteen years ago when they had just started dating. They were more shy back then, more careful, and although their friends knew, they found themselves holding hands in private rather than in public. 

But not the night of the 4th, not when they blew up the waterslide and were eating slices of watermelon on the lawn, the juice dripping down their faces. Later that night they set off fireworks on the beach and went back up to the house to burn sparklers. It was heaven, being surrounded by friends and family, and just completely content in their lives and their love. 

One of Taylor’s favorite pictures of Karlie is from that night, with her blonde hair in ringlets from the saltwater. She’s looking straight at the camera, her expression mischievous, holding up a sparkler.    
  
Now, with two children and more than a decade of love and loss between them, this house means so much more to them than it ever did. 

Their 4th of July is quiet and private. They burn sparklers on the porch and eat burgers and fries as the sun sets. Evie has her first milkshake and later that night, she writes a song about how much she loved it. This makes Taylor laugh until she cries. 

Noah dances around the kitchen with Karlie while they blast “Shake It Off” and Taylor captures it on video, giggling with Evie in the background. 

Then, when the kids are asleep and Karlie and Taylor are alone upstairs, they remember another moment from years ago. 

“You know,” Karlie murmurs in between kisses. “I think the best sex of my entire life took place in this bedroom.”

“That’s funny,” Taylor says, and inhales sharply as Karlie’s teeth graze her shoulder. “I was about to say the same thing.”

  
  
Things escalate quickly from there, with Taylor’s hand clamped over her mouth to keep from waking the kids. The next morning, Karlie wakes up and looks over at her partner, and can’t help but feel like not a second has gone by since their first 4th of July 14 years earlier. 

_ Now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe…  _

… 

_ August  _

On her 33rd birthday, Karlie comes home from a photoshoot to find Taylor and the kids a giggling mess in the kitchen. Evie and Noah are practically falling over, their cheeks rosy and eyes shining. Taylor looks at Karlie, her eyes lighting up. 

“There you are! Welcome home!” 

Slowly, Karlie sets down her bag. She throws her keys into the dish on the entryway table, walking cautiously down the hall to meet them. 

“Love,” She asks Taylor. “What’s going on? What are you doing?”

  
  
“Oh, I can’t tell you that.” Taylor shakes her head, and then crouches to Noah’s height, murmuring something in his ear. Her son giggles even harder, and runs over to Karlie. 

“What’s going on, little man? Are you hiding something from me?” Karlie teases. 

“I’ve got to blindfold you.” Noah pulls a red bandana out of his back pocket. “Mama said I had to, ‘cause you’re not allowed to see what’s outside.” 

Oh no. Taylor was not known for her simple surprises. Whatever was about to happen, it would be extraordinary. 

Noah ties the bandana loosely around her eyes and Taylor darts over and fixes it, making Karlie promise she couldn’t see anything. 

“I can’t,” She swears, and can’t stop her smile when she feels Taylor’s hands on her waist, guiding her forward. “I should’ve known. How long have you been planning this?”

  
  
“Four months.” Taylor answered cheerfully.

“ _ Taylor- _ ”   


  
“Quiet, love. I worked hard on this, and it’s your birthday.” She stresses. “Birthdays are supposed to be exciting.”

  
  
There’s a shuffling noise in front of her. Tiny feet scampering across the floor. 

“Noah,” She hears Taylor say. “Go and open the back door. Evie, stay with me darling.” 

Slowly, Taylor guides Karlie towards the back of the house. Karlie nearly bumps her head on a light fixture - “It’s not my fault you’re so  _ tall!” _ \- but somehow they arrive in one piece at the patio doors. She hears Taylor unlock them, and push them open. 

One step forward. The air is humid and comforting in her lungs, the grass wet under her feet. 

Fingers untie her blindfold and suddenly Karlie’s blinking rapidly, adjusting to the bright sun. She’s standing on the back lawn with Taylor’s arm around her waist, and her entire family is in front of her. 

“ _ Surprise _ !” 

How long had it been since they’d all been together like this? Six, seven years at least. Holidays were too difficult to spend together when you lived oceans apart, but here they are, right in front of her. 

“Oh my god!” Karlie cries, looking in complete shock at Taylor. Her heart swells almost painfully. She can feel herself tearing up. Oh, Taylor, you sweet, wonderful girl. “How did you, when did they -  _ what?” _

Her mother and father, Kimberly, Kariann, and Kristine all stare back at her. Kimberly starts to laugh giddily, and runs forward to pull Karlie into a tight hug. 

“Kimby, oh my  _ god _ ,” Karlie whimpers, staggering back from the force of her hug. She hugged her back just as tight. “I missed you so much, sweetheart. I’ve missed all of you so much.” 

Kariann and Kristine quickly join the hug, and Tracy and Kurt follow suit. When her sisters pull away, Karlie hugs her father for a long time. She starts to cry, softly. Tracy hangs back, letting them have a moment. 

“I can’t thank you enough for this,” Tracy says quietly, touching a hand to Taylor’s shoulder as they watch them. “I’m beyond grateful that you both worked things out.”

There’s an underlying tone there, an _I forgive you for this._ Taylor starts to tear up too. _  
_  
“You’re very welcome. And believe me, we are too. We’re beyond grateful.” 

Karlie’s family stayed for a week. Noah and Evie pestered their aunts the entire time, demanding board games and puzzles and finger painting. Karlie spent time with her parents, walking around the property with her father and baking with her mother. It was exactly what Karlie needed, after the difficult years of separation and the complicated months that followed their second try. Taylor can see it in her eyes, the final weight lifting off her shoulders. 

When they left, Karlie told Taylor it was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for her. 

“Anything for you,” Taylor murmured, and kissed her. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.” 

...

_ September  _

Evie turns four on September 27th, and Karlie and Taylor aren’t sure how to give her what she wants. 

Weeks earlier, they’d tried to ask the little girl what presents she wanted. Taylor suggested several stuffed animals, a new blanket, a paint set, but Evie didn’t want any of it. No dolls, no clothes, not even the princess tiara that her playmate Sierra wore in daycare, something Evie talked about for days. Evie wants something else entirely. 

Evie wants a little sibling. 

Taylor tries to reason through it later when she’s alone with Karlie. She’s sitting cross-legged on their bed, fiddling with her necklace, a nervous habit. Karlie watches her move the charm methodically back and forth on the chain, the daisy pendant blurring before her. 

“A few years ago, we wanted a third.”

Karlie remembers the terse conversation in the car eerily well. 

  
“Is that what you want?”  
  
“Is it what _you_ want?” 

“I think you know what I want, darling,” Karlie says honestly, and joins Taylor on the bed. “That’s not what I’m asking. You’re in complete control of this situation, Taylor. You get to call the shots. You know we can adopt, that’s always been an option.”   
  
  


Taylor is silent for a long time, looking down at her lap, her fingers still fiddling with the pendant. 

“I want another baby,” She says finally. “And I want it to be our baby, but I don’t think I can handle being pregnant again.” She lets go of the pendant, it swinging back and forth on the chain for a moment before settling into the folds of her sweater. “It was too much last time, and I know we got Evie, but I don’t want to be that scared again.”

“You don’t ever have to be that scared again,” Karlie murmurs, and opens her arms. Taylor crawls into her lap immediately, wrapping her arms around Karlie's neck. “I don’t mind being pregnant, my love. I can carry.” 

“You’d do that for us?” Taylor asked, looking up at her wide-eyed.

“I’d do anything for us, sweetheart. I’d do anything for you.”

They kiss, leaning into each other, giggling quietly. Taylor pulls back, her eyes shining in delight. 

“Sounds like Evie’s getting what she wants.”    
  


_ This is a state of grace. This is the worthwhile fight. Love is a ruthless game, unless you play it good and right.  _

...

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! 
> 
> P.S. - The last chapter will be posted next weekend. I wanted to say how much I appreciate every single one of you for reading, liking, and commenting on my work. Thank you for hanging around long enough to finish the story!
> 
> \- J xx


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi my loves,
> 
> So... this isn't the last chapter. There's just too much material to post in one update, and I've decided to split it into two. The next update (fingers crossed) really WILL be the last one. 
> 
> I'm sorry for the confusion. I really want to end this story correctly. 
> 
> Happy reading.
> 
> \- J xx

_ October  _

“I can’t believe we’re discussing this  _ now _ . They’re going to be here soon, Taylor.”

  
  
“I asked a simple question, I’d like an answer please.”

  
  
Karlie fixes Taylor with a glare from the stove. She was already stressed with trying to prepare dinner and dessert, and now Taylor had to go asking complex questions about past relationships. Harry and Louis were coming over any minute now for a long-overdue dinner party, and the stew needed to simmer for at least half an hour more. 

There was no such thing as a “simple question” when it came to love, especially if the question was  _ did you ever love her? _

Her. Tessa. 

“You’re not putting me in an easy position, love.”

  
  
“No, I’m not being fair about it.” Taylor agrees. She drums her fingers on the counter idly. “But I’m curious. You know you can be honest with me.”   
  


“I’ll answer by asking my own question, did you ever love Katja?”

  
  
Taylor smiles wryly. 

“No.”

Karlie puts the lid back on the stewpot, stepping away from the stove and wiping her hands on a dish rag. 

“I didn’t love Tessa. The lack of love is the reason I ended our relationship, among other things. Picturing a different person when you’re sleeping with someone is never a good thing.”

  
  
Taylor offers no reaction, but Karlie thinks she sees her eyes tighten, even for a split-second. 

This was a difficult topic for each of them, something they’d been working through in the past month or so. They agreed that past relationships warranted discussions, even at the most inopportune moments. It all started back in September when Taylor made an offhand comment about a trip to Wales, and Karlie didn’t remember it. Most likely because she wasn’t the one to go with Taylor - Katja was. 

“I would know.” 

“Then you understand that what I had for Tessa was affectionate love rather than romantic love.”

  
  
“Yes.”

“We’re here now,” Karlie declares. “In love. And as you would say,  _ every one of us has messed up too.”  _

Taylor laughs brightly, giving in. She cocks her head to one side to study Karlie. 

“You know your Taylor Swift!”

  
  
Karlie rolls her eyes, though she’s secretly pleased with herself. 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you how well.”

  
  
They nearly miss the doorbell, too lost in their kiss. 

_ …  _

Harry and Louis bring Rosie and an expensive bottle of mulled wine. While the kids bundle up and run through the yard, stomping through multicolored leaves, the adults retreat inside to talk. 

Taylor uncorks the bottle in the kitchen, pouring out glasses for herself and their guests. It’s a beautiful bottle, infused with orange peel and cinnamon, the kind of thing that reminds Taylor of hot toddy's back in Nashville. She discreetly pours Karlie some sparkling cranberry juice. Luckily, the drinks are similar in color. 

After just one round of IVF, Karlie was officially pregnant. Their OB-GYN was beside herself, congratulating the women on their good luck and wishing Karlie a peaceful first trimester. The morning sickness was brutal, but it faded by mid-afternoon and Karlie even had an appetite, something her first pregnancy took from her. 

They're sitting on the secret, always a half-step away from accidentally revealing it. Taylor wanted more than anything to tell her mother, who had been less frigid around Karlie in the past few months. They’d be able to tell everyone soon, but the anticipation was infuriating. 

Karlie gives Taylor a knowing look as she passes out the wine glasses. Karlie smiles warmly at her partner, taking a sip. 

“So,” Harry starts, clearing his throat. He cradles his wine glass awkwardly, drawing it close to his chest. “We wanted to, um, tell you both something.” 

“Right.” Louis nods a little eagerly, and then composes himself. “We’ve got some news.” 

Karlie laughs, drawing her legs underneath her on the couch. All of them are sat around the living room under blankets. The fireplace is on, casting a golden glow around the room. Taylor sits next to Karlie, snuggling up. 

“You’re both looking paler than usual,” Karlie teases. “What’s going on?” 

Harry smiles faintly while Louis looks even more nervous, and Taylor’s stomach drops for a split-second, her smile fading. Were they…? 

_ No.  _

To Taylor’s utter relief, the two men smile at each other. Harry looks up at them, grinning wide. 

“We’re having another baby.”   
  
It’s absolute chaos. Karlie nearly spills cranberry juice down her jumper. Taylor’s jaw drops, her hand flying to her mouth. Out of all the things Harry could’ve said, this had to be the most surprising. Not that long ago, Louis was in her kitchen crying over not wanting another child. She catches his eye, and he’s practically glowing. Things had changed. 

“You are?!” Karlie exclaims. “Wait,  _ really _ ?”

  
  
“Congratulations!” Taylor cheers. “That’s incredible, oh my god!” 

Karlie and Taylor jump up to pull their friends into a group hug. They all stand that way for a while, laughing quietly and murmuring congratulations. 

“So, a surrogate or adoption or…?” 

“Surrogate,” Harry confirms. “Glenne offered.”

  
  
Glenne was a close family friend of Harry and Louis. Glenne and her husband Jeff didn’t want any children. 

“That’s wonderful,” Karlie says. “I’m so happy for you both. Rosie must be ecstatic.”

  
  
“We, um, haven’t told her yet.” Louis says, glancing to the porch windows. The kids were still traipsing around the yard, throwing fistfuls of leaves at each other. “Kids don’t always take the news so great, an’ we’d rather wait a little bit and warm her up to the idea.” 

Taylor wants so badly to confess. She’s desperate to tell them about Evie’s birthday present, but she can’t. Not only would it overshadow their moment, but it wasn’t time yet. So she smiles, and she takes Karlie’s hand, and they shower their closest friends with love and support. 

_ And you’ve got a smile that could light up this whole town… _

_ Can’t you see? You belong with me.  _

… 

_ November _

Songwriting. 

Sometimes Taylor cursed herself for choosing such a difficult profession. Writer’s block hit her in full force these days. Not like she had time to write anyway, with the kids and Karlie and the new baby on the way. Their time was spent between the school yard, the park, and the OB-GYN, and Taylor didn’t mind that. 

But she missed writing. 

There were moments of inspiration, although fleeting, and Taylor tried her best to hold onto them. A lingering melody, a rhythm, a simple phrase all had Taylor running for pen and paper. Nothing seemed to stick. 

She missed the days of frantic, almost feverish writing. She missed waking up at four in the morning to mumble incoherent phrases into her phone, until Karlie rolled over and pulled her back into her arms. It seemed like a nuisance in those days, especially when her eyes glazed over mid-conversation and she had to excuse herself. There was nothing dignified about scribbling incoherent lyrics on a paper napkin in a bathroom stall, but Taylor would give anything for it now. 

Taylor debated switching themes, she considered rewriting melodies or swapping vocals, but even with her current material she didn’t feel satisfied. She was tempted to call up Ryan or Shellback and hash out a different plan, a time to meet in the studio and brainstorm, but she felt defeated by the idea of even asking for help. What was happening to her? 

How was it that she’d written dozens of songs when she was heartbroken and none while she was hopelessly in love? It seemed physically impossible. 

It wasn’t until early one morning when Taylor was at the piano in the living room, irritably jangling the keys, that it hit. 

It’s Karlie. She’s in the kitchen wiping down counters with a dish rag. Her hair keeps falling into her eyes so she finally pulls it into a messy bun, humming quietly to herself. She's wearing a long-sleeved burgundy dress and Taylor watches her pull a loaf of bread out of the oven, the sunlight streaming in through the curtains and catching her face just so and  _ oh.  _

It hits her. It hits her like a fucking freight train. 

_ I don’t want to look at anything else now that I saw you _

_ And I don’t want to think of anything else now that I thought of you  _

_ I’ve been sleeping so long in a twenty year dark night _

_ And now I see daylight _

_ I only see daylight  _

It’s unstoppable, the lyrics pouring out onto the page. The sweet, lilting melody follows quickly. Taylor works, bent over the piano, for twenty minutes. 

When she’s finished, Karlie brings her a slice of fresh bread with strawberry jam. 

“That sounds beautiful, darling.”

  
  
“Thank you.” Taylor beamed. “You’re beautiful.”

  
  
Karlie blushes and rolls her eyes, already turning back to the kitchen. 

“Please. Don’t start.”

  
  
“You are,” Taylor insisted, reaching over and tugging Karlie back in front of her. She presses her palm against Karlie’s belly, which by now is starting to swell underneath her dress. “And so is she.” 

Karlie covers Taylor’s hand with her own, smiling. 

“She?”

  
  
“I’ve just got a feeling.”  
  


“You were right with Noah,” Karlie muses, and squeezes Taylor’s hand fondly. “Well, ‘she’ loves your music.” 

  
  
“And I love her.” 

Later that night, Taylor calls Jack. It’s a little heartbreaking, telling him that she isn’t happy with any of the songs they’ve worked on for the past year and a half, but she felt the need to be as genuine and authentic in her craft as possible.

It didn’t feel right, releasing songs from a year ago when so much had changed. She was no longer heartbroken or betrayed or jealous. She was  _ happy _ , and she wanted to write songs that reflected her happiness.

Jack says it’s alright, that he’ll wait for new songs. Taylor is met with an overwhelming sense of freedom, of rebirth, and she knows she’s going to write a completely different album. 

_ Threw out our cloaks and our daggers because it’s morning now, it’s brighter now... _

_ Now, I don’t want to look at anything else now that I saw you…  _

…

_ December _

Morning sickness hit in full force these days. 

It started early, Taylor waking to cold sheets and faint sounds of retching in the bathroom. Karlie refused to wake Taylor up when she was nauseas, saying it wasn’t a big deal. How many times had Taylor told her it wasn’t a problem? 

“Babe,” Taylor says hoarsely, pushing the door open. “You should’ve woken me up, love.”

  
  
Karlie’s keeled over the toilet, gripping the sides of it tightly. Taylor can’t see her face, but is willing to bet her partner is paler than usual, the circles under her eyes more prominent. 

“Wasn’t really thinking about anything else,” Karlie says shakily, her voice cracking a little. “I didn’t want to make a mess.” 

Taylor crouches behind her. She pulls Karlie’s hair up into a loose bun, reaching for a hair tie on the counter to secure it. 

“How bad?”

  
  
Karlie sits back on her heels, exhaling slowly. Taylor reaches for a washcloth on the bathroom counter, wetting it under the faucet. 

“Not as bad as yesterday, but yeah,” She laughs helplessly, leaning back into Taylor’s touch as she wipes down her neck and shoulders. “I feel like shit.” 

Taylor does the best she can, offering ginger tea and hugs and space when Karlie needed it. They spent most of their mornings huddled together on the bathroom tile, Taylor coaching Karlie through the nausea. 

Both of them know that in the long run, all of this will be well worth the pain. 

**…**

  
  


By the end of the month, Karlie and Taylor have made an important decision. 

It involves Brandon, who is called into the house early on Monday morning before he clocks in. He enters the kitchen, stoic as ever in his all-black uniform but looking rather nervous. 

“Good morning,” He greets them politely, and then looks between them grimly. “...Have I done something wrong?”   
  


“Of course not.” Karlie assures him, and takes Taylor’s hand. “But we have something we want to ask you.” 

“Oh,” Brandon frowns, looking perplexed. “Alright.” 

Taylor smiles at Karlie, her heart fluttering. He was the first person they were going to tell. Her mother was going to _kill_ her. 

“Brandon, Karlie is pregnant.”

  
  
The security guard’s face lights up. 

“Are you really? Congratulations! That’s brilliant!” 

“What we’re trying to say is,” Karlie says. “We really want you to be the baby’s godfather, if that’s something you’d be interested in.”

“You’ve always been like family to us,” Taylor adds. “But we want to make it official.” 

There’s a moment of silence, and Karlie and Taylor share a nervous look. Maybe this wasn't the best idea, to spring something so personal on a more quiet, private man. But then Brandon looks up at them and he’s blinking back tears. It’s startling, to watch this burly man choke back tears, wiping at them in embarrassment. 

“Brandon-” Karlie starts, horrified. “We didn’t mean to-”

  
  
“No,” He’s shaking his head furiously, holding a hand up to reassure her. “Of course I will. Of _course_ I will. Christ, I couldn't think of anything else I'd want to do more." 

“You will?” Karlie’s voice cracks, and she starts to laugh, tears trailing down her cheeks. Her hormones had been out of whack lately, she blamed the baby, but this sent her over the edge. “Oh, god. Thank you, Brandon. That means so much to us, you've no idea.” 

The three of them pull each other into a salty hug, crying happy tears in the middle of their kitchen at six in the morning. 

_ This life _ , Karlie thinks.  _ I wouldn’t trade it for anything else.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you. 
> 
> For reading, for sharing, for commenting and liking. For supporting writers. 
> 
> I love you all. 
> 
> \- J xx


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi my loves,
> 
> Here it is - the very last chapter.
> 
> I want to thank each and every one of you for reading, liking, sharing, and commenting on this work, it means the world to me.
> 
> Thank you for being patient with my crazy posting schedule. I hope you've enjoyed this story as much as I've loved writing it. 
> 
> You all are incredible. 
> 
> \- J xx

_ December  _

Karlie’s never liked doctor’s offices. 

The smell, the sterile and bleak quality of the endless halls, it all made her uneasy. 

Not today, not when Taylor’s holding her hand and beaming as the nurse squeezes jelly on her stomach. Not when they’ve waited months for this moment, when they’ve come so far. 

“Do we want to know the gender of the baby today?”

  
  
“ _Yes_.” Taylor and Karlie say emphatically at the same time.

The nurse, an older woman with dark hair and kind eyes, chuckles. 

“I thought so,” She presses the ultrasound wand to Karlie’s stomach, pressing down firmly. “This might be a little uncomfortable, Karlie, but try and hold still for me.” 

Karlie winces at the pressure but focuses on the black and white display, trying to make out their baby. Taylor was rooting for a girl, while Karlie was certain it was a boy. __

An old wives tale, perhaps, but Karlie had been craving only salty foods. Her mother said it meant a boy was on the way. Taylor rolled her eyes, and said it meant she was dehydrated. 

Dehydrated or not, Karlie found herself daydreaming about bringing a little boy home from the hospital. Noah would love a little brother to play in the yard with. She could see Evie with a little sister just as clearly. 

Taylor’s watching the monitor intently with her. It wasn’t long ago that they were in opposite positions, and Karlie can practically feel the adrenaline coursing through Taylor. She knows Taylor’s as nervous as her. 

“What does Mama think?” The nurse asks, continuing to adjust the wand. 

“A boy,” Karlie replies. “Just a feeling, I guess.”

  
  
The nurse adjusts the display and presses a few buttons. A faint image appears, and she nods, satisfied. 

“Well, Mama. Not this time. It’s a girl.”

  
  
A quiet sound bursts out of Taylor and Karlie looks up to see her blinking back tears. For a moment, it’s as though they’ve gone back in time ten years. Taylor looks twenty-five with her hair pinned up, exposing her shining eyes and rosy cheeks. Karlie tears up with her, her heart soaring. A little girl.  _ Their _ little girl. 

_ But this love is brave and wild… _

_ I never saw you coming, and I’ll never be the same.  _

_ This is a state of grace.  _

“Hi, baby girl,” Karlie instinctively reaches a hand out to touch the image. “You were right, sweetheart,” She looks at Taylor, shaking her head in disbelief. “You were right about Noah too, I can’t believe it.” 

  
  
“Another little girl,” Taylor muses, and leans down to kiss Karlie’s forehead, smoothing her bangs back. She pulls back, her grin suddenly wicked. “Evie’s gonna lose her shit.”  
  


So she was. 

  
… 

A few weeks later, Taylor and Karlie are in the living room trying their best to come up with names for the baby. Karlie’s sitting on the couch, crossing names off a never-ending list sent from their parents. Taylor’s cross-legged on the carpet, holding her head in her hands, defeated. 

“This is too hard,” Taylor groans. “Nothing fits. It’s not  _ her _ .” 

“We don’t want anything snobby,” Karlie says. “God knows people will have something to say if we choose a snobby name.”

  
  
Taylor rolls her eyes. Karlie hisses suddenly, bringing a hand down to rub at her stomach. 

“Is she kicking again?” Taylor looks concerned. “What a brat!” 

“She doesn’t have a whole lot of room,” Karlie sighs, still massaging the spot. “She’s got a good kick, though. She’ll probably be good at soccer.”

  
  
“Absolutely not. No child of ours is going to be good at soccer. Or any sport.”

  
  
Karlie barks out a laugh, and Taylor snickers with her. Neither of the kids were good at sports, thanks to their parents lack of coordination. Noah preferred to draw or play with legos, and Evie was content with her dolls at the moment. 

“Jesus!” Karlie yelps, moving her hand to another spot. “God, she’s strong, Taylor.”

  
  
“Hey,” Taylor says sharply, getting up on her knees to lean over the couch.“Be nice to your Mama, you little brat,” She says to Karlie’s stomach. “She’s trying to keep you safe in there.” 

“The baby’s kicking?” 

Evie’s standing in the hall, looking curiously at her parents. 

  
“Yeah, honey,” Karlie nods. “Do you want to feel it? Come here?”

  
The little girl nods eagerly, running over. Taylor helps her up onto the couch.    
  


“Just press your hand here, love,” Karlie guided her hand to her stomach. “There. Can you feel her?”

  
  
The baby delivered a swift kick at that exact moment and Evie squealed in delight, her eyes shining. 

“The baby kicked me!”

  
  
Taylor and Karlie laugh at the toddler’s dismay, and Karlie presses a kiss to Eve’s head, smiling faintly. 

“What do you think we should name the baby, Ev?”

  
  
“Aurora.” Evie says matter-of-factly. 

Figures. Sleeping Beauty was Evie’s favorite movie at the moment. Karlie looks hopefully at Taylor. 

“Absolutely not. Snobby."

  
  
“Maybe we could _name_ her snobby,” Karlie muses. “That would certainly send a message.” 

“ _ No _ !” 

…

The conversation resumed a few days later, while they were making dinner. Noah and Evie were in the living room doing a puzzle while Taylor diced vegetables for a salad. 

“Phoebe?”

  
  
“That could be cute,” Karlie’s mixing a dressing together, adding some olive oil. “Did Harry send any suggestions?”

  
  
“None that you’ll like,” Taylor snorts, recalling the list. “Before we knew it was a girl, he literally suggested _Reginald_. Reggie for short.” 

“Well, good thing it’s not a boy.”

  
  
Taylor grabbed a bag of carrots, clearing her cutting board. 

“Hmm. Wait, what about Elizabeth?” 

“Elizabeth?” Karlie frowned. It was nothing like the names they’d discussed earlier. 

  
  
“After your middle name.” Taylor explains. “It’s a beautiful name for a girl, and she’ll have plenty of nicknames to choose from if she doesn’t like it.”

Suddenly, an image of a little girl with dark curls flashes in Karlie’s mind.  _ Elizabeth _ . 

“Oh, that’s perfect. Elizabeth Kloss-Swift,” Karlie nods. “That’s so perfect, Taylor.” 

Taylor grins, throwing her head back to let out a loud victory whoop. 

“We’ve got a name!”

…

_ December 25th  _

Christmas morning starts with quiet, giddy laughter.

Taylor’s up already, staring at the ceiling, unable to stop the grin from spreading across her face. She can hear Evie and Noah coming down the hall, attempting to tiptoe, shushing each other and then dissolving into another fit of giggles. 

Next to her, Karlie is in a deep sleep. Taylor doesn’t know how she does it. Karlie always feel asleep first. In bed, on planes, on the couch, you name it. Taylor envied her ability to check out, to completely fall backwards into a dream. 

By the time Karlie and her had finished wrapping presents and hanging the stockings, it was nearly three am. Three hours later, Taylor is still awake and borderline delirious, but harboring a kind of childlike optimism towards Christmas morning. She couldn’t wait any longer. 

The door creaks open and little feet creep across the carpet. Taylor turns over on her side, smiling down at her children. Noah’s got tousled hair and shining eyes, practically glowing as he holds his sister’s hand. Evie’s blinks up at Taylor, a thumb in her mouth. They looked like a pair of candy canes in their striped red and white pajamas. 

“Hi, babies,” She says quietly. “Merry Christmas.” 

Noah and Evie pulls themselves noisily onto the bed, jostling Karlie awake. Her partner blinks groggily, confused, and then lets out a hoarse laugh. 

“Well, good morning. Starting early, are we?”

  
  
“We couldn’t wait any longer,” Noah says sheepishly. “It’s too exciting.”

  
  
“I know how you feel, Noah,” Taylor smiles. “C’mon, loves, let’s go see what Santa brought you both.”

The rest of the morning passes with piles of ribbon and wrapping paper, mugs of hot chocolate and marshmallows, and more than a few grateful kisses shared between Taylor and Karlie. 

A year ago, things were quite different. 

_ All I know is pouring rain, and everything has changed.  _

…. 

_ January  _

Karlie doesn’t know what to think when Taylor suggests they go Regents Park late one night. The kids are with Louis and Harry and they have the house to themselves. On a night alone, they normally cuddled up on the couch and watched a movie, or finally had good,  _ loud _ sex in their bedroom. It wasn’t all that often they had a stretch of twelve hours to themselves. A walk in the park happened on the weekends with the kids, so Karlie’s a bit confused, but she agrees. 

Regents Park was beautiful this time of year, and it was late enough that they’d be alone and granted some rare privacy. 

Taylor is strangely quiet as they bundle up and drive over, winding through the quiet streets of London. 

“You’re chatty,” Karlie teases. 

Taylor smiles faintly. 

“Just thinking. It’s been a busy week. My head is full.”

  
  
So it had. Taylor had practically worn a track into their living room carpet, pacing back and forth on the phone with label executives. Making an album was no easy feat, especially when you’re a Pop Mastermind who hasn’t released something in years. 

Karlie wasn’t exactly putting her feet up either, she’d had a few photoshoots and countless meetings for the Kode with Klossy camps, which wouldn't start until June, but required months of planning. 

Put that together with two young kids and a baby on the way, and well, it shapes up to be an exhausting week. 

If she’s being honest, Karlie hadn’t paid much attention to her partner at all this week. They were both too busy in their work to look up and offer support, a smile, or gentle encouragement. Realizing this, Karlie reaches for Taylor’s hand. 

“I love you.” 

  
  
“I love you too,” Karlie murmurs, and leans down to kiss Taylor’s temple. “We haven’t been to the park in ages.”

“I thought we needed a quiet stroll.”

  
  
“I couldn’t agree more.” 

…

Strangely, Brandon lets Karlie and Taylor walk ahead, trailing them dutifully with his walkie. Taylor heads straight for Primrose Hill, tugging Karlie along. 

At the top, they sit in the same spot from nearly eight years earlier, when they travelled to London for the first time and stayed at Harry and Louis’ place. 

It’s cold, even in parkas, gloves, and scarves they’re shivering. Karlie pulls Taylor to her side, wrapping an arm around her, trying to warm her up. 

“I’d pull you into my lap, but I don’t think you’ll fit,” Karlie jokes, and looks down at her growing belly. 

Taylor laughs, but it’s cut a little short. Karlie’s smile fades, suddenly noticing the tight look in Taylor’s eyes. She leans forward, concerned. 

“Taylor?”

  
  
“I’m alright.” 

“You look like you’re about to cry, angel. What’s the matter?”

  
  
Taylor exhales shakily, her breath fogging in the cold.    
  


“You know that I’ve been struggling to write this album, right?”

  
  
Karlie thinks back to all the time Taylor had spent locked away in her studio room only to throw lyrics in the trash. She nods. 

“Well, Jack and I finished something that I’m actually proud of the other day. Finally.”

  
  
Karlie surges with pride. “That’s incredible, babe. I’m so happy for you.” 

  
  
“I want you to hear it because I, um, wrote it for you.” Taylor stammers. “It’s called Paper Rings.” 

Taylor pulls an ipod out of her pocket and Karlie stifles a laugh. The thing was ancient, but Taylor had to be cautious about where she stored her ideas and demos. She unravels the headphones and hands them over to Karlie, her eyes suddenly widening. 

“It’s a little different from what I normally do, it’s not a ballad. It’s kind of, um, ‘70s?”

  
  
Karlie laughs. Taylor sounds like she’s asking for approval. 

“I’m not picky, Taylor. I love everything you do.”

  
  
But when Karlie puts in the headphones and Taylor presses play she’s not prepared in the slightest for the lyrics that follow. 

... _ The moon is high like your friends were the night that we first met _

_ Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet _

_ Now I’ve read all the books beside your bed…  _

_...The wine is cold, like the shoulder that I gave you on the street _

_ Cat and mouse for a month or two or three, _

_ Now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe…  _

Taylor’s right. It’s like nothing she’s ever done. It’s bright and frantic and slightly ‘70s with its chaotic backing track and drums, but Karlie falls in love with it immediately. It’s like something out of a rom com soundtrack, it’s quintessentially  _ Taylor _ . 

She remembers the night they first met, recalls how Jourdan and Romee smoked their nerves away for the fashion show. She remembers recommending  _ The Everlasting Man _ to Taylor, and how it appeared on their nightstand a few months later. 

She remembers how they regarded each other icily years later, when handing off the kids felt more like a business deal than a human interaction. She certainly remembers the game they played for the next eighteen months, twisting and turning and wondering if the other felt the same. 

_ Kiss me once ‘cause you know I had a long night _

_ Kiss me twice ‘cause it’s gonna be alright _

_ Three times ‘cause I waited my whole life  _

_ (1, 2. 1, 2, 3, 4!)  _

_ I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings _

_ Uh, huh, that’s right, darling, you’re the one I want _

_ And I hate accidents, except when we went  _

_ From friends to this… _

Karlie looks up at Taylor, her jaw dropping. Taylor simply grins back at her. The track unfolds before her, painting pictures of their wildest moments. It reveals their secret wishes, how hard they’ve fought, how far they’ve come to sit here side by side. 

This was Taylor in her truest form, a force to be reckoned with and unapologetically honest. Both hilarious and heartwarming. This was a Taylor Swift song at its best. 

_ In the winter in the icy outdoor pool, when you jumped in first I went in too _

_ I’m with you! Even if it makes me blue... _

Karlie laughs, thinking back to the drunken pool party months ago. Taylor swore they’d get pneumonia but jumped in all the same after Karlie, shrieking when they hit the water. It was moments like those that they were unstoppable, lost in their own world. 

_ So, kiss me once ‘cause you know I had a long night _

_ Kiss me twice ‘cause it’s gonna be alright _

_ Three times ‘cause I waited my whole life  _

_ (1, 2. 1, 2, 3, 4!)  _

_ I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings _

_ Uh, huh, that’s right, darling, you’re the one I want _

_ And I hate accidents, except when we went  _

_ From friends to this… _

The song finishes as brilliantly as it begins and Karlie doesn’t take her eyes off of Taylor, pulling out the headphones. 

“...Do you like it?”

Taylor sounds nervous. It blows Karlie’s mind, the extent to which Taylor doesn’t recognize her talent. Even with the truth right in front of her, Taylor would assume the worst. 

“The fact that you even have to ask me that after all these years,” Karlie scoffs. “Yes, Taylor. It’s incredible. It’s completely ‘70s and I  _ love _ it.” 

Karlie expects what happens next, but her heart still pounds as Taylor reaches into her pocket and pulls out a tiny velvet box, flipping it open and  _ oh, god.  _ All the air leaves Karlie’s lungs. 

It’s a gorgeous ring, peridot surrounded by tiny diamonds. Her birthstone and her favorite color: bright green. 

Her sweet, wonderful,  _ gorgeous _ girl always outdid herself with surprises. Even with Taylor blurring before her, Karlie can’t resist cracking a joke. 

“Love, I hate to break it to you, but that’s not a paper ring.”

  
  
Taylor’s crying by now too, but she laughs wetly, shaking her head in disbelief. 

“I can’t believe you sometimes. You’re an idiot.”

  
  
“An idiot who wants to marry you,” Karlie says quietly. “How long have you been planning this?” 

“Months,” Taylor admits. “And I know that it shouldn’t matter, because we love each other and we don’t need rings or to get married, and we’ve done it before, but I want to. I want to be your wife again, Karlie. I want it to be real. I want to be  _ yours _ .” 

Karlie looks back at her, bewildered. “You are mine, sweetheart. You’ve always been mine.” 

“No take-backs?”

Karlie had nearly forgotten. She’s transported back to the same conversation a decade earlier, when they sat together on the piano bench in L.A. and cried for all they’d lost. 

If only she could tell those girls that they’d gain it all back and more. If she could only tell them that everything would be alright, they just had to hold on a little longer, and then learn to let go. 

“No take-backs,” Karlie promises tearfully, leaning into kiss Taylor. “Paper rings or not, I  _ love _ you. Yes, I will marry you again.”

_ Don’t you see the starlight, starlight? _

_ Don’t you dream impossible things?  _

….

_ March _

Eli looks rather pleased with himself. 

Taylor noticed it the moment she greeted him at the door. He smiled warmly, pulling her into a hug. He was looking  _ chuffed _ , as Harry would say. Like he knew something she didn’t, which if Taylor was being honest, he always did. Therapists had that way about them. 

It isn’t until they’re sitting in Taylor’s office like usual that Eli goes for it. 

“Can I make an observation?”

  
  
Taylor looks incredulously at her therapist, who had never asked for such permission. It was normally the other way around, Taylor asking sheepishly if she could speak frankly, which Eli always encouraged. 

“You may.” 

“You are  _ exponentially _ happier than you were a year ago.” He hits his hand on the desk for emphasis. “I’ve noticed it gradually over these last few months, but recently, you’re glowing. You’re truly happy, aren’t you?” 

“I… yes, I am,” Taylor agrees. “Reconciling my marriage and bringing our family back together completely changed my life. And my outlook on life.”

  
  
Eli leans back in his chair, beaming. 

“Do you have any idea how proud I am of you?”

  
  
“Elijah,” Taylor says, embarrassed. “Don’t coddle me.”

  
“I’m not coddling. I’m being genuine here, Taylor. Do you remember our first session? Let’s think back to it.”

“Coddling” was Taylor’s way of criticizing Eli’s excessive positivity. It had become their warning word when things reached personal territory, when Taylor didn’t want to be pitied or even agreed with, she simply wanted to talk through the issue. 

_ Don’t coddle me. You know I hate that.  _

“I remember. I was rude to you.”

  
  
“You were,” Eli laughs quietly, amused. “In your defense, you were in a rough period.” 

Taylor nods, thinking back to those days, when everything blurred together in a mess of anger and grief. 

“I want to thank you for helping me through it all. I needed a guide.”

  
  
“I’m more than happy to help. You should give yourself more credit, Taylor. I think you’re reluctant to be proud of yourself sometimes.”

  
  
“I’m working on it.”

  
  
“Yes, you are.” Eli smiles, and says gently. “I believe in you.” 

Taylor knows he does. 

_ …  _

_ May  _

Elizabeth Kloss-Swift is born early in the morning two weeks before she’s due. She’s got Karlie’s wide, green eyes and dark hair that sticks up in tufts. She’s got ten tiny fingers and toes, a bright smile, and a sharp cry. 

“Good lungs,” Dr. Kepari winked at Taylor. “You might have a singer here, girls.” 

Their daughter is completely and utterly flawless, a miracle in the flesh. Karlie lets out a helpless laugh when Taylor hands Elizabeth over, bundled in cloth. 

Elizabeth’s tiny hand reaches out for Karlie, and she gurgles quietly. Her eyes are still closed, her skin rosy from the cotton blankets. 

“Oh, god, she’s  _ perfect _ , Taylor,” Karlie’s lip is trembling, threatening tears. “Hi, baby girl. We’ve been waiting so long for you.” 

Taylor leans down and kisses Karlie’s forehead, still damp with sweat. She feels like she’s dreaming. 

“She’s absolutely gorgeous. Good job, darling. You did it.”

The contractions had started at midnight, leaving Karlie speechless, doubled over. Taylor had a bag packed and their families on the phone in the next five minutes, telling them firmly to get on a plane  _ now _ . 

She calls Harry next and he answers groggily on the first ring. 

“S’ happenin?”

  
  
“It’s happening. We’re leaving in ten minutes,” Taylor’s holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder, leaning down to stuff jeans and baby clothes into a duffel. “I need you here with the kids, can you-?” 

“There in ten,” He promises, cutting her off. “And tell Karlie she’s got this, yeah? She’s a fucking warrior.”   
  


With those words spurring them on, they’re in the car with Brandon at the wheel and heading to the hospital at illegal speeds.    
  


Now, after nearly eight hours of labor and several fits of cursing, they’ve got a baby. Taylor’s in complete awe of her fiance, of the woman before her that grit her teeth and took on the pain like it was nothing. Karlie in labor was the most incredible thing Taylor had ever witnessed, and now that’s she’s seen it twice, she’s convinced. Mothers in labor were the most powerful creatures on earth, there was no doubt about it. 

Taylor’s father chokes back a quiet sob when he’s handed the baby, looking down in wonder at Elizabeth. 

“Dad…” Taylor scolds quietly. “Don’t. If you cry, I’ll cry.” 

“Do you have any idea how happy this makes me?” He chokes out. “That you two are together and happy again?”

  
  
“Believe me, Dad,” Taylor says, her throat tightening. “Not as happy as I am.” 

Watching Scott cradle the little girl against his chest is enough to bring tears to Andrea’s eyes, and Taylor knew in that moment she was forgiven for scaring her mother so badly. For taking back a woman that had left her heartbroken. 

Soon, Taylor would show her mother the ring she’s hidden on a chain under her shirt, and the small pendant of a daisy hanging next to it. 

_ You gotta step into the daylight, and let it go. Just let it go.  _

_ …Let it go.  _

_... _

_ Epilogue  _

Noah knew from the very beginning that love was a complicated thing. 

He might have been only six when his parents split, but hearing Taylor sob in her bedroom from down the hall was enough. His mothers did their best to conceal their grief, but he knew what heartbreak was, and he knew that it could last a lifetime. 

Karlie and Taylor fell in love when they were young and reckless. He’d heard the songs. He’d seen the pictures. Anyone could find them, of course, but Noah never saw his parents like that - in dresses and heels - made up for dinner, dancing, or functions.

He didn’t see Karlie walking the runway, but he watched her mending his jeans when he tore a hole in the knee, or stitching a ripped sleeve after he climbed a tree. He saw her working furiously in her study, and waved goodbye from the car as she boarded the plane every month to NYC. 

He never saw Taylor in concert, but he saw her play guitar and piano in their home, and he listened to her singing Lizzie to sleep down the hall. He heard her humming in the bathroom in the morning, and occasionally found the door to the studio room closed, a deep bass thrumming from within. He loved Taylor’s singing voice, full-bodied and sweet. It was one of his favorite sounds. 

The glitz and glamour was a thing of the past. Noah saw his parents early in the morning making coffee, no makeup at all, still groggy and stumbling around but never too far away, always within arms reach. He saw them before bed. He saw them giggling on the couch, wine glasses in hand. 

He saw Taylor in tears when a vicious headline dropped, and he saw Karlie drop to her knees to comfort her, arms wrapped around her waist as Taylor curled back in herself on the couch, muffling her cries. He saw them in quiet conversation, Karlie’s eyes shining when Taylor made a stupid joke. He saw them hand in hand in Regents Park, Brandon and him trailing behind, tugging Evie and Lizzie along. 

It was the moments in between, that  _ first glance feeling _ as his mother would say, the  _ golden, like daylight  _ kind of love that hit you straight in the chest. The kind of love that sucks the air out of your lungs, leaves you gasping, falling to your knees, but wanting more. 

His parents were no ordinary people, he learned that early on, but it was their love that made them extraordinary. 

_ I used to think love would be burning red, but it’s golden.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you.
> 
> For reading, sharing, liking, commenting.
> 
> For supporting writers. 
> 
> Love you all. 
> 
> \- J xx

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Comment below and let me know what you thought. Don't be shy. :)
> 
> \- J xx
> 
> P.S. Katja's name is Russian. It's pronounced "Ka-tcha" for those unfamiliar with the language.


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